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eddiernunson · 5 months

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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

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Word Count: 16.9k

Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans, smut, meeting Hawkins characters, smut, regular kinks, public sex, and lazy writing where i didn't even look up countries to travel to for honeymoons. Also...a haircut... (don't hate me)

I barely got this done in time, and it's also unedited. My editor says she can do it and we'll replace the rough copy lol.

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for always telling what they think and reading for it me first.

I just wanted to share some personal news. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, and I am always so fucking tired, so I apologize for posting a million things one week and nothing for months. The inspiration really comes and goes.

Anyways Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.

You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”

“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”

“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”

“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.

“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.

“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.

“You found a dress?”

You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”

The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted. The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”

“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.

He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.

“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.

Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”

Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.

“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”

A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”

He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”

A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”

He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”

You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”

“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.

You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”

Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”

You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”

He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, tilting his head and twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”

With his blessing, you started to feel something like trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.

On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.

A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen came into view.

As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. As soon as the zipper is up, your eyes welled up in bridal glory.

All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)

Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”

“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.

“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.

“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.

“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”

Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”

Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.

You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.

The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.

“Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.

Hours later into the evening, your friends are taken off to their prospective life commitments. The living room is tidied up and the tv turned on to some background noise as you doom-scroll on your phone. Right on time, the front door to the house slams shut.

His hot breath and sweet kisses on your neck feels like home, titling your neck and humming happily as his arms wrap around your torso from behind the couch. “Hi, baby.”

“Hello, my love.” He greets. Your hand lands on his hair, petting his curls. “I gotta take a shower, then I’ll be right back.”

He bends your head on the back, giving you a deliciously upside down kiss. “Hurry fast.”

A usual shower for him doesn’t take too long, usually sporting sweats and a band tee as he comes back down the stairs twenty minutes later.

It’s only thirty minutes when your patience completely runs out, hopping up the stairs wondering if he fell asleep. He’s not in the room, or the bathroom, so you finally find him in the closet, squatting while he grabs something from one of the low storage shelves.

“Hey, Eddie—”

You forget the English language. Every word you’ve ever known is gone from your brain, nowhere to be seen. He uses his elbows to lean on his thighs, perched on his toes and smiles at your speechlessness.

“Surprised?” He asks, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You stare up at it, hand petting his scalp. “What did you do?”

He shrugs, spinning his hands in circles in his hair. “Needed a change.”

“That…that’s a big change.” You comment, noting the way his face looks without his hair framing it.

He grins, hand caressing your face sweetly. “What do you think?”

You wonder how you missed the razor with a hair clip on the counter. “I think we might have a problem…”

The panic in his eyes is subtle, but there. Clearly, he’s never had someone who loved him for him, and you’re excited to see his reaction. “Oh?” Eddie asks, doing his best to appear casual.

You smile, admiring the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck, even buzzed all the way to his scalp. “What the hell am I going to hold onto while you go down on me?” You ask, playfully scolding him.

He laughs, his face crumbling in relief. “We’ll figure it out, sweets.” He tugs you into his arms, arms gorgeously tough as he hugs you intensely. “Not the first time I’ve cut my hair, you know.” Eddie tells you, squatting back down to grab what he needed.

You’re honestly unsure if you’ve ever seen a picture of him with short hair, but then again, his social media doesn’t have many pictures of him. “Oh?”

Eddie grabs what he needed successfully, taking off into your shared bathroom. “Yeah, last time was when Dyl was like eight, or something.” Eddie answers, cleaning up the last strands of hair from the counter. How did you miss those?

“Needed a change, then, too?” You ask, now seeing where he placed his shed locks, the damn garbage.

Eddie tucks his lips in, tongue poking out between his lips. “Uh, not exactly.” He starts, hesitating. “Brooke sort of…demanded? I guess? That I cut my hair when long hair was apparently not really cool anymore.” He laughs, putting the razor away. “She wouldn’t let it go.”

Anger is useless, at this point, knowing that dumb bitch was just plain horrible to him. It still stings to know he had to deal with her, regardless. “She seems so lovely.”

Eddie laughs, taking your hand in his as he led you back out the bedroom and back down the stairs. “This time, at least I did it for myself.”

“I can’t lie,” you start, sitting nearly on his lap on the couch. “I will miss it, and our kids will be shocked when they see their dad had short hair in our wedding photos…but it’s hair. It grows back. I will always accept you for who you are, baby.”

Eddie doesn’t know which part to focus on more. He hopes you never fail to make him feel so loved, and honestly, he doubts you ever possibly could. But for the moment he focuses on the first part. “Our kids huh?” He asks as you lean back comfortably against his chest.

“Oh, hush, you know what I want from you.” You rebuke, smiling satisfied as you watch whatever is on TV.

His arm wrapped around you pulls you impossibly closer to him, still expecting the itch of his hair on your neck. “I know, my love. I want the same thing.”

“You get any calls for RSVPs, yet baby?” You ask, sighing happily.

“Steve called, everyone’ll be there, of course.” Eddie answers, grabbing the remote to switch channels.

“Oh, cool, I can’t wait to meet Jocelyn.” You say, still not having met his wife.

“I thought you’d be more excited to meet Eliza.”

“Oh, her, too.” You laugh, nodding. “She will be the cutest flower girl ever.”

Eddie kisses the top of your head, sighing happily as his cheek rests on it. “That, she will be.”

Eddie’s hands are intertwined with yours as he flies down the major highway, music blasting through his speakers as the wind sends your hair flying from the open windows. The prospect of flying versus driving to Hawkins was debated for a hot minute, but a long road trip with him was just too good to pass up. Several bags are in the back seat, packed for both the four days you’re spending in Hawkins, and the three weeks for the honeymoon.

He surprised you with a His and Hers matching set of bags, mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the embarrassment take over your face. He knew how excited you were to go take a trip to Cancun with him as newlyweds, and he did his best to make it clear the feeling is mutual.

But before you can take off on a flight with him, comes getting married.

Both your dress and his suit are in garment bags, something you’re all too thrilled for him to see, the prospect of him on the other side of the aisle filling you with a level anticipation you didn’t know was possible.

The trip is long, and you wonder how Steve was able to make it to your parents’ in such short notice, noting you’ll need to extend more gratitude to him. You had offered to drive, but Eddie had repeatedly denied you, insisting you’re his queen, and he planned on treating you like one.

What was that you had said earlier about living a fairy tale?

As you pulled into the small town, Eddie texts a few of his friends to let him know you had arrived safely. He pulls up to the one gas station in town, stretching his back out, walking into the convenient store to pay and take a leak.

When he comes back out of the station there’s an aura of amusement on his face, shaking his head. You meet him at the pump, eyebrow quirked to ask him what he was so smug about.

“He’s still alive.” Eddie chuckles as he puts the pump to start filling it up. He laughs again when your face twists into even more confusion. “Gus, the owner from when I was in high school, he’s still kickin’, and he’s still running the joint.” He pauses, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Probably out of pure spite, if anything.”

You kiss his cheek, petting at the curls now swirling in his hair. You still missed the length, but he looked good with short curls. “Wonder who else has surpassed those expectations.”

His eyes widen at the idea. “If Higgins is still principal…”

You smirk, having several stories about Higgins undeserved vendetta he held against Eddie, having once blackmailed him into dripping out. “God help the youth of Hawkins, Indiana.”

“I don’t blame Arlo for any of his sass in that case.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a text from your mother that she, Viti, your dad, and her had successfully landed in Indianapolis and are currently grabbing their rental. Thank god your mom is acting like a mother again after her brief mental psychosis.

For the first day in town, Eddie has a whole plan for you, refusing to tell you what he had planned. First, was the singular old folks’ home Hawkins hosted. The receptionist immediately recognizes Eddie, flickering to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Is this?” She asks, pointing to you covertly.

“Sure is.” He answers. “How is he?”

“Very excited.” She answers, placing a pen and paper on the counter in front of you. Eddie signs his name, and hands the pen for you to do the same. “Same room as always.”

Confused, you follow his lead down the hall the opposite way from the rec room where a group of elderly individuals were playing bingo. He’s petting your thumb with his, his eyes flickering between your eyes and the ground.

Is he nervous?

He finally stops at the door second to last on the left, labelled with the number 18. Three knocks on the door and there’s a gruff voice on the other side telling you to come on in. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens it, slowly walking into the room.

The door opens to an older, much older, man with a very thin patch of hair on his head facing the other direction, hands shuffling over a faded deck of cards, slowly categorizing them, supposedly a game of solitaire. Eddie lets go of your hand to approach him from behind, playfully humming, moving one of the cards over the old man’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Eddie says, gentle and smug.

“Christ, you always knew how to beat me.” He mutters, shaking his head. He lifts it to face Eddie, smiling ear to ear as he stands up slowly, relying on the table in front of him for stability. “Bout time you came back to town,” he jokes, tugging Eddie in for a hug.

You can see Eddie’s smile over his shoulder, observing the way Eddie relaxes in his hold. Eddie’s hands on his back are firm, gripping onto him for dear life. You’ve heard stories, only had an idea of how much his guardian meant to him, but from just the looks of this hug, it’s the kind of affection you suppose could only a parent could provide him.

Times like these you wished you knew him when he was younger, just to see more of these vulnerable moments.

Not that you want to cut their reunion short, but you need to get this introduction out of the way because it was the one you’re most nervous about. You clear your throat subtly, only to get their attention. Eddie’s eye’s abruptly open, meeting yours apologetically. “Sorry, sweets.” He says, pulling away from the hug. “Uh, Wayne this is—”

Wayne, the man who has picked up the slack from his deadbeat brother and runaway sister-in-law, turns to face you, smile on his face as he abruptly wraps you in his arms for a hug. “I don’t need an introduction to the woman who brought my son back to life.” He insists, squeezing you tight. You want to feel cocky about this statement, but all you can do is smile into his shoulder. It’s impossible that the affect you have on one another is the same, a lust for life you’ve never have before now ever present, looking forward to the future knowing that you’ll have him for as long as humanly possible.

It's just nice to hear from those who have known him his whole life.

Wayne finally lets you go, the smile lines ever present as he grins at you. “Well, I suppose you two still have a lot of work to do before Saturday, huh?”

You look at Eddie, shrugging in sync. The only thing there really is to do is set a few tables up for the reception and pick up some flowers from the local florist. A small wedding means little to do, especially with good friends in town insisting on helping tie the final pieces together.

“This one isn’t a bridezilla, is she?” Wayne jokes, winking at Eddie’s exasperated eyeroll.

“She could stand to be a bit more decisive, to be honest.” Eddie laughs, a lobsided smile.

To be fair, you just wanted to marry him, it really didn’t matter how the tables are laid out at the reception, or where you take the photos. He could’ve taken you to a courthouse and you would’ve been satisfied, but there is something so enticing about announcing to your close friends and family how much you love and plan to spend all your days with him.

Wayne and Eddie talk, Wayne telling the embarrassing stories you’ve been begging Steve to tell you, yet with no success. The pink blush on Eddie’s face is adorable, watching as he hopelessly protests the stories, but Wayne seems to be the only person out there who doesn’t get intimidated by Eddie’s stern voice. You wonder if the temptation to give the same energy next time you’re being berated by him will be too much to ignore.

Your favourite story that Wayne told you was the one where he was ten years old and attempted to mix his love of hard Metal and Dungeons and Dragons and turned on the song only to forget he had it turned all the way up the day before.

It resulted in snacks everywhere and one of his favourite figurines crashed as he stumbled across the room to try to turn his stereo down. Wayne even had some photos he keeps in a box on his dresser, handing one by one. The best set of photos were Eddie growing his hair, going from a kid with a buzz cut in the halls of a school displaying a rock signal to the camera to a jaded teenager refusing to smile for it.

Yeah, if you knew Eddie in high school you would’ve been down bad.

Eventually, Eddie stops protesting at the stories and just ends up defending the actions of a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old.

“You’re not expecting me to wear a suit, are you?” Wayne squints, leaning back onto the desk.

“Just wear something nice, will ya?” Eddie asks, an aura of affection for his lifelong guardian.

“Yeah, yeah.” Wayne dismisses him.

The nurse is sweet as you and Eddie sign out, Eddie requesting that they get him out of his room to socialize for once. She laughs, insisting that they do his best to get him out, but he is stubborn as he is old. Judging from his silver hair and the vibrant blue veins showing from his paper-thin skin, you can see where Eddie gets a lot of his personality from.

Eddie’s a silent sort of content as he drives down the main street, thumb caressing your hand with purpose and ease. He makes a turn, slowing at the end of the street at a sweet little yellow house. “Where you bringing us this time?”

“Still not telling.”

The front door opens to a woman with short curly hair, crossing her arms as soon as she sees who is on her front step. “Was wondering when you’d stop by.” She says, waving her hands to invite you in. “Come on in, Robin is over for the afternoon.”

“Hi, Wheeler.” Eddie greets her, tugging you in with him.

Oh, Nancy. You’ve heard little about her, only that her determination is scary.

“Yeah, come on in, you groomer.” Comes another voice, a little rough on the edges but said with love.

“Groomer?” Eddie asks, eyebrow tilting.

“You’re lucky that’s all I’m calling you.” Robin, sitting at a table with a cup of tea, playfully shoots back. “Marrying a girl half your age.”

“And like I’ve said on the phone, she’s been making as many of the decisions I have.” Eddie says, sounding tired. “Anyway, this is Robin, that’s Nancy.”

They toast their cups to you, observing how you and Eddie are with each other, his hand around your shoulders and your hand easily intertwined with his.

“They’re uh, they keep me in check.” Eddie laughs, gesturing to them.

“You cut your hair.” Nancy states, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen that in a few years.”

“Whatever, do you want to tell her or not?”

Turns out, Nancy and Robin been communicating and texting Bethany and Skyler for ideas on a bachelorette party for you. Your eyes are full of fear as you glance to them full of fear, scared of what they had planned.

Those eyes were a little too smug for comfort. “You haven’t told her anything about the uh… U.D, have you?” Robin asks softly as Nancy shows you a photo album as the friend group from years back. What a friend group to be in back in their heyday.

“Not quite yet.” Eddie shrugs, wondering how is it those faded memories can come back so quickly just because he’s in town.

“You ever plan to?”

“Probably. Won’t wait too long so she doesn’t think I’m senile.” Eddie jokes, but it falls flat.

“I think she can handle it.” Robin admits, now having spent a few hours with you. “Maybe skip the part where your heart stopped.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Probably.”

Eddie has made several more stops throughout the day, introducing the many colourful characters that flooded his hometown. Felt like right out of a storybook.

The one you most got along with turned out to be Dustin Henderson, the very same one who Steve’s third son is named after. Just from your first conversation surrounded by their goofiness, do you truly understand how dorky, how dramatic he really is. Dustin does have stories to tell you, less embarrassing, more dripped in his dramatic flair for life.

Dustin checks on the habits he still carries, does he still fidget with his fingers, does he tuck in his lips, has his patience gotten better.

Correction, Dustin is one other person you suppose Eddie can’t intimidate. You’ve seen many attempts only met with laughter. “Steve has a bachelor party planned for you, you know.”

You shoot Dustin a glare, charging on him. “There won’t be any strippers, right?”

Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops when you shoot a glare at him, giving you a meek smile. You fucking thought so.

“Don’t worry, Harrington has a death wish, but not that badly. It’s a meticulously planned out campaign.” Dustin chuckles elbowing you. “A few drinking games involved, but no models in bikinis.”

Suddenly Eddie’s in your ear, breath sending shivers down your body. “If you were to show up in a bikini, I wouldn’t protest.” Eddie whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Tempting, but I think I’ll wait until Cancun.” You answer, grinning cheekily at his widened eyes.

Eddie gets a text that night when you’re in the hotel room with him where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding was completely figured out, the two of you are ready for a night in before the rush sets in for tomorrow, cuddled up under the blanket as he reluctantly watches one of your favourite romcoms.

His hand pets on your bare thigh, slowly making its way up, smirking at the way you tense under his touch, whimpering as you impatiently wait for him to finally touch you. His fingers finally, finally brushing under your panties and just seeing how wet you are when Eddie’s phone vibrates on the bed. “Don’t you dare.” You protest, clutching in his shirt.

“You’re not in any position to be making demands.” He chuckles, sliding to answer his phone.

You huff, head banging against the head rest.

“Make it fast, Harrington.” Eddie answers. You start to pay more attentive attention to the movie when his hand slips back under your panties. His finger moves easily along your folds, slowly working you. Eddie mutes his phone, “Be fucking quiet, got it?” You nod, forcefully taking a pillow and biting down on it. “Sorry, bud, what was that?”

Eddie listens, face crumbling in annoyance. “And we don’t get any say in this?” He asks, inserting his finger bast the barrier of your entrance. “Yeah, we’ll be an hour.”

Eddie hooks his finger, eyes raking down your body as your back arches in attempt to keep quiet.

“Because you caught us in the middle of something, Stevie.” He laughs starting to speed up. Something Steve says tugs a beautiful sound of laughter from his lips, hanging up and tossing the phone. “Take your panties off, we have an hour.”

You throw the pillow across the room, grinning as you take your panties and the shirt you’re wearing off.

When he slides into you, perfect and relentless, the words he whispers in your ear are how he can’t wait to marry you, how much he wants to see his girl in a pretty white dress just for him, and what a pretty girl he has.

The only words that leave your throat are about how much you love him, on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you, Iloveyou.

Stubbornly, Steve demanded two of you made your way over as soon as possible. Eddie agrees, but really wishes he could stay with you when he sees the blissed-out expression you wear in the afterglow. Damn him.

You reluctantly go with him, half asleep as your head rests his shoulders when Steve finally opens the door. “Finally, you sluts!” Steve laughs, hand in his front pocket as he opens the door with the gusto only Steve Harrington really can. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time you get a haircut.”

You glare at him, rolling your eyes. “If we came all this way just for this, then I will see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“She has a point.” Eddie agrees, also ready to go back to the room and forget you were asked.

“Chill out you two.” Steve insists, “c’mon.”

Well, Steve is one hell of a schemer, because as soon as you reach the living room everyone (and then some) jumps out from their hiding places, a big ass surprise party.

Like the two of you weren’t already having a big party in two days, but this is a large reminder of how loved you are.

This thankfully gave you a chance to mingle with the rest of the Harringtons, Eliza regretfully already asleep upstairs. Immediately, you see the connection between Nicky and Dylan and how much they get along far more than Dylan ever did with Arlo.

Arlo and Viti are mingling a little too close for comfort, her back leaning against the counter as his hand is placed right next to her, nodding as what ever she says is apparently agreeable. Whatever Arlo is planning, he’d better stop that shit.

Jocelyn Harrington is the perfect ying to Steve’s yang, perfectly balancing out his chaotic personality and keeping him in check only the way she can. You ask her to keep an eye out for Arlo, something she promises that she’s tried to do many times in the past, in fact, this his him tamed.

You finally learn who you’ve hired to take the wedding photos, a boy you’ve only spoken to over the phone from Steve’s recommendation. He’s…Nancy’s, ex’s, son, Jeremy Byers, who has apparently picked up his dad’s hobby in photography and, like his father, turned it into something that can pay the bills. His dad is freakishly just like him, sweet and unassuming. What is it with genes in this town? Everyone just copies and pastes.

Somehow, Steve managed to get your parents to show up, somehow finally warming up to Eddie. Still, she’s on thin ice for ever having insulted him to begin with. Apparently, Nancy does remember your mom, having been on the newspaper with her.

Your mom was on the newspaper?

The night is spent laughing in Steve’s massive living room, the air filled with anticipation and pure excitement, actually glad you were forced out of bed. The doorbell rings, opening to face your two best friends as they squeal and wrap you in a hug and everything is right in the world.

Maybe your mom could stop flirting with Steve, though.

Finally, you stumbled into the Hotel room at 3am, giggling together as he falls on the bed on top of you. His hand snakes his way under your skirt, tugging them down fast, the sound of him undoing his belt driving you crazy as you giddily and hurriedly help him with his shirt. He’s been teasing you all night, his lush lips wrapping yours and wandering hands making you want to pull him into one of the bathrooms.

The pure want in you right now when you know you’re about to make Eddie your husband is coursing through your body is excessive. There’s a looming question, will you be able to hold back during your wedding? Answer is a definite no, but you’re trying to trick yourself into believing that you will.

His bare skin against yours as he ruts against you is everything, yet even after every orgasm you want more, crave more of him more than you ever thought was possible. You’re extra greedy that night, holding him closer, begging him for more, more, more. His words are a sweet mixture of worship, praise, and just a little bit of degradation. My girl, my sweet love, taking me so well, your sweet cunt, greedy little slut.

You fall asleep with your legs wrapped around his waist, sleepily exchanging sweet nothings in one another’s ear, the rest of the world dissolved completely.

The vibrations of your phone don’t wake you up, but it certainly alerts you to the following vibrations of Eddie’s. The phones didn’t even make it to your chargers, sitting in the mess of clothing on the carpeted hotel floor. Eddie’s body is partially on yours, wrapped in his musk as you stretch, taking in the reflection of the sun on the roof. “Eddie.” You moan, stretching your limbs as you attempt to reach off the king-sized bed. “Phone.”

Another phone is buzzing, somebody clearly relentless in their effort to get a hold of you. Eddie hums, head twisting only the littlest bit in your neck. “Too…too bad.” You slowly crawl out of his hold, rolling towards the scattered pile of clothing. Just when you think you’re successful, Eddie’s strong bicep effortlessly pulls you back, tightening his grip on you. “Stay.”

The sound erupts again. “You don’t think that could be important?” You ask, finger gently trailing along the skin of his back.

His shoulders shrug, lips starting to trail kisses along your neck. “Don’t care.” He mumbles, hands moving across your skin. You can feel his enthusiasm against your leg, tugging him down against you. “Waking up to your beautiful face, gorgeous fucking body, you think I care about anything else?”

When he puts it like that, you suppose you really can’t say no to him, especially when his voice is luring you in like so. You hum, starting to see his point as the buzzing fades into the background. “Then get to it, will ya?” You ask him, hands intertwined in his short curls. As he pushes himself up on his hands, his eyes meet yours, grinning cheekily.

“Get to it, you say?” He asks, hands tugging on your hips your body meets his perfectly. “Somehow last night still left me unsatisfied.” He pushes into you slowly, not giving you any warning or bothering to prep you. As assumed, the slick from last night remains ever present along your folds, allowing Eddie to push in effortlessly. Your mouth opens wordlessly, meeting his eyes and drinking in the pure lust in them. “This pussy baby, you’re telling me I get this for the rest of my life? Am I that lucky?”

As always, he’s crazy to believe he’s the lucky one. “Whenever you want, Ed,” you tell him, fingers clawing up his back and mewling. “Faster, please, please, baby.”

“Pretty voice beggin for me.” Eddie mutters, still granting the wish. “Think your pussy can take more of daddy’s cum?” He asks, hands intertwined in your hair and thrusting harshly. “Thought I already filled it a bit last night.”

“Never enough, Ed.” You gasp, pulling his lips on yours. They’re lush and sweet, but the kiss turns dirty as his hands press harshly and fiercely. “Can never…never get enough.”

Eddie chuckles, curling himself into your neck. “You keep saying shit like this to me and I will never let you leave this room.” His hands slide themselves down to your wrists, sitting up as he pulls your arms down your torso. This position hits a new angle, the pleasure hitting a deeper spot than you knew possible.

“Who said I want to leave?” You laugh, his grip on your wrists tight enough to bruise.

Your legs wrangle themselves against his chest, feet flexing next to Eddie’s face, watching his half open mouth and gorgeous face. “Just what I wanted to hear, sweets.”

His hips are beautifully relentless, eventually turning you around in his grasp, your face hitting the pillow as his hips start impossibly faster. His hand grips itself in your hair, pulling your back against his chest, snaking from your hair back around your neck. “Listen to those sounds you make, love, so desperate for me.”

“What a pretty girl, taking my cock so fucking well.” His other hand clings itself onto your clit, circling it as his hot breaths gasp against your neck. “Feel that sweet pussy dripping all over me, you close, babygirl?”

“So close, Daddy.” You whine, neck stretching impossibly high as the pull in your stomach is strong and intense. His fingers move faster, driving you towards that high more and more. “Oh, my god, Ed.”

Your pussy flutters around him, eyes twitching shut and whining in his hold as his hips never let up. As you just start to come down from it, there’s a loud knock on the door. You fall forward, whining as Eddie doesn’t let up. The knock comes again, faster and louder this time. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind them, and frankly, neither do you, listening to him as his groans grow deeper and longer, reaching backward frantically for his hands. “Gonna fill you up, love.”

The knocks are now rapid, never ending and stubborn.

“One fucking minute!” Eddie yells, voice harsh and aggravated.

Now the voice that’s been shouting is clear who it is, Steve apparently having no patience as he shouts in anger.

You feel him rut a final time, bending over you as he gasps desperately into your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Hurry up, I’ve been calling you guys for an hour!” He yells, you can practically hear his hands placed on his hips.

“You want me to open the door naked?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pair of pants he tossed onto the ground last night.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Steve asks, a hint amusement in his voice.

Eddie opens the door, rolling his eyes as he leads him in. You lie under the covers, not caring about the lack of clothing you wear. “What?”

“Oh lord.” Steve grunts once he sees your relaxed posture on the bed, scrolling through your phone.

“I’m sorry, did you not know what you were walking in on? Your ears have mysteriously vanished from your head?” You ask, a half smirk placed on your face at his hand exaggeratedly hiding you with his hand.

“I at least figured you’d have clothes on,” Steve grumbles back, crossing his arms. “I’ve been calling you two for the last hour, we have shit to do before the parties tonight.”

“Parties?” Eddie asks, slipping his shirt on.

“Yes, parties. Hurry, you two.” Steve demands, clapping his hands repeatedly. You stare up at him blankly, still half paying attention to the videos on your phone. “Well?”

You blink at him, stunned. Wasn’t this wedding supposed to be easy? “Get out!” Point angrily to the door of the room.

“I want you two in the lobby in five minutes. We got shit to do.” Steve demands, letting the hotel door slam behind him.

You glance to your fiancé, leaning on your elbow cheekily. “Wanna fuck me again?”

To be honest, Eddie’s jeans were back around his ankles before you even finished the sentence.

The feeling of shamelessness as the elevator opens to the lobby fifteen minutes later is refreshing, sporting kiss bruised lips and tussled hair as you cheekily greet him.

Steve looks tired, sitting in a chair in the lobby scrolling through his phone leaning on one elbow. “I should’ve known way better.”

Admittedly, Steve was right. Despite the size of your wedding there was still a stupid amount to do before the Wedding takes place the next day. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably would’ve stayed in bed all day until the realization kicks in. Maybe being as much in love with Eddie as you are is both your saving grace and your downfall.

Steve acts like a wedding planner. You thought your mom is bad, turns out she’s got nothing on Steve Harrington with a goal and a vision.

Flowers picked up, hair stylist and makeup artist booked, the church confirmed, all the t’s crossed and the I’s dotted.

When you’re sitting with Eddie and Steve on the living room couch at the early evening, Jocelyn opens the door, walking in with her daughter running in like a little tornado, her little curls bouncing with every step. Her voice is to the brim with giggles, running up to Steve with glee.

“Daddy!” She yells, hopping into his arms as he catches her effortlessly. Eliza is somehow even cuter in person than she is in any photo you’ve ever seen of her.

Steve hugs her tightly, petting her back like the gentle parent he is. “You see who’s here, yet, Liz?” He asks, nodding towards Eddie and you.

Eliza abruptly leaves his hold, switching her bright green eyes to Eddie. “Uncle Eddie?” She jumps straight for him, forcing the one arm behind you to wrap around her.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He greets, your eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Seeing him talk about her animatedly is one thing, but watching him melt as soon as she’s in his grasp sets your ovaries on fire. “Are you excited to be a flower girl for us?”

Her eyes flicker to yours, shyly smiling, as if remembering there was someone for her uncle Eddie to get married to. “That’s the lady?”

He laughs, hearts in his eyes never leaving as he glances over. “Yep.”

Eliza looks back to him ‘whispering’ in his ear, “She’s pretty.”

Eddie chuckles and places his hand by her ear, pretending to whisper back, “I know, it’s why I’m marrying her.”

The glare you want to give him is drowned out by the warmth that floods your entire body. “You two sharing secrets over there?” You squint your eye, pretending to be suspicious of them.

Eliza giggles, hiding in her hands. “No!”

“Then why are you whispering?” You demand, leaning in.

“We’re not!” Eliza giggles, kicking her feet as she tumbles off the couch.

“If you’re lying, I think a monster is going to come chase you,” you warn her, shaking your head exasperatedly.

Her eyes go bug wide, scared only as a four-year-old can be of a monster coming after her. “N-no, we weren’t whispering!”

You nod at her, smirking at Eddie, hoping it gets the point across. “Uh, oh, Eliza, I see a monster!”

Eddie catches on, dramatically crouching as he bares his teeth and pretends to growl. As soon as she hears it, she squeals, little footsteps taking off into the next room. You watch him run after her, suddenly completely forgetting that it wasn’t his idea to begin with.

How the hell have you just managed to fall for him even harder, you’ll never know. Maybe you want more than one with him.

You sit back comfortably on your chair, feeling completely relaxed from the sounds of their footsteps and giggles alone. Your head feels heavy falling over and suddenly facing Steve’s eyes already dead set on you. You’re startled out of your daze, head perking up quickly and hurriedly. “What?” Steve’s eyes flash up and down, making you feel a tad self conscious. “What?”

“What was that?” Steve asks, nodding towards where Eddie and Eliza are still running around, making loops around the house.

You shrug. “Just playing with your four year old?”

Steve tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. “When you two have kids, I think the world needs to watch out.”

“Kids?” You ask exasperated. “Who said anything about that?”

“You did. And him. And I know you’ve at least talked about it.” Steve answers, unwavering conviction in his voice. You’re speechless, playing with your nails as you avoid his eyes. “Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought.”

Once Eliza is put to sleep, you’re comfortably on Eddie’s lap as a knock on the door echoes through the house. Jocelyn gives a smirk as she opens the door, and a parade of shouts bursts through the door. The group of men that burst through it are all loud and jeering, their smiles too wide as their hands grab at the man beneath you, picking him up by any body part they can grab. He’s promptly lifted over their heads, all of them ignoring his shouts in protest and threats to dismember them if they don’t let go of him.

Not that you’re mad at Steve for throwing Eddie’s bachelor party onto him, just the opposite. A warning that the next time you’d be seeing him was at the altar would’ve been nice, though. You heard him shouting from the basement, a mixture of glee and anger. Steve gets up from the couch, making his way towards the door to the stairs.

You rush before he goes, blocking the way to the stairs. “Take care of him, won’t you?”

“I promise no lap dances from any of the strippers,” he vows, his face smirking at the glare that lands. “I’m kidding! It’s just drunk D&D, no strippers involved, I promise!”

You hit him on his shoulder, just a little done with his bullshit. “Better not be.”

“I mean if he starts stripping when we get to the tequila, I make no promises on stopping him.”

You stop Jocelyn who is just passing by. “You sure they’re over each other?”

She shrugs, knowing exactly what you mean from 25 years of dealing with the two of them. “Jury’s out on that one, I’m afraid,” she winks, petting Steve’s confused face.

“Make sure he gets there tomorrow on time,” you nod, patting his arm condescendingly.

“Right, a church in St. Louisville, right?” He asks. You hit him again, harsher. “Oh my god, sometimes you are so easy to piss off.”

You shoot one last glare. “For the moment, I think I have the right to be, you know? Sort of need him there on the other side of that aisle.”

“He’ll be there, he might be a bit hungover, but he’ll be there.”

“Alright. Now go downstairs, Harrington.” Steve startles you by tugging you into a hug, taking a moment in stunned silence before returning it. “Make sure he has fun.”

You sit down on the couch, listening to the crowd of men cheer as Steve finally gets to the bottom of the steps. Your head just hits the pillow on the couch when Jocelyn’s elbows land next to your hair, wearing a smirk you swear you’ve seen on Arlo before.

“Oh, you think you’re in the clear?” She asks, assessing the look on your face. “Come on in, ladies!”

Somehow when Eddie was picked up, you completely missed how there was a whole different group who followed in, sneaking their way into the kitchen. Now the very same ladies who organized the bachelorette party rushed in, grabbing your hands up from the couch as they all squeal in glee. You didn’t know where to look or what to say, surrounded by doting hands, both friends of yours and Eddie’s alike.

“Here,” no one in particular passes you a pretty dress, something you didn’t even pack for yourself. “Put this on, we’re going on a night out!”

“In Hawkins?” You ask, aware of the single dive bar that Eddie spent his nights working at.

They all let out a chorus of “no”, all explaining simultaneously that they rented a party bus and you’ll be travelling to the closest city that has one more than only one bar.

A tight dress, makeup that only other’s hands have put on you and a bit of pregaming, strobe lights are bumping and the bass is loud in while you’re surrounded by all of the hens. You’re extra surprised Nancy and Robin have also joined in on the fun, Robin’s voice scratchy in the speakers as she sings into the karaoke microphone. Your little sister is extra giddy that she was invited to join, too deep with number the drinks she’s already had.

You’re just glad she’s not with Arlo for the night.

To catch your breath about halfway into the trip you sit down, everyone following your lead with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The music is turned down eventually, all eyes on you.

“So, are you excited?” Skyler asks, poking your hip right next to you.

You nod shyly, a big smile taking over your face. “Of course!”

“Okay, so I just have to know, what’s the craziest thing you guys have ever done?” Bethany abruptly asks on the other side of you.

Your face twists into confusion, giving every pair of eyes staring at you exactly what was going on in your brain; what the hell is she talking about? “Crazy?” You ask, question her, wondering what they could possibly mean. “We really aren’t all that crazy.”

“Oh, come on.” Viti interrupts, crossing her arms as she sits on the seat directly across from you. “You know exactly what she’s talking about.” She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.

“I happen to know his nickname the Freak is not just a name…” Nancy laughs. “If rumours from High School are anything to go by.”

Your jaw drops, laughing to compensate for the discomfort. “Why do you all want to know so badly?”

“Please.” Skyler protests, leaning forward on her elbow. “The way he looks at you? There is no possible way you guys don’t have crazy, or at least crazy good sex. Spill the beans.”

You ask for a shot glass, downing it straight away. Not that you want to entertain it, but just to protest, you’re gonna need to be a lot less sober than you are right now. “Assuming you are even close to being right,” you start, asking for another shot, “why the hell would I tell you guys?”

“Because our curiosity is peaked.” Viti explains, unwavering in the intense eye contact with you. “Spill.”

“Fine.” You give in, barely holding the laughter that bubbles out from your mouth at their joyful expressions. “Seems you guys are desperate to know, so I will tell you one little adventure. Just one.”

The music is turned down into a low melody, acting as a background when you tell the story of hooking up with him in the dressing room after just moving in with him. Their expressions are slack jawed, all on the edge of their seats as you describe the want and the adrenaline that rushes through you as your face is pushed up against the dressing room wall.

You end the story, laughing with the crowd at the circumstance in which you ended up meeting Steve Harrington. The bus stops, pulling up to the first bar for the evening. You get up easily, ignoring the way all eyes stare at you in bewilderment. “Well, you coming, or what? It is my bachelorette party!”

Robin is the first one to get up, laughter leaving her lips as she follows behind you. “C’mon, if we get her drunk enough, I’m sure that’s not the only story she’ll tell us!”

You wish you could answer the question of how you successfully made your way back into the bed of your hotel room, waking up next to the warm body that is your fiancé. The headache is splitting, waking up to the alarm on your phone that rings loud and clear. “Oh fuck.” You wince, checking the time. Luckily you still have time until your appointments, glad you opted for a later ceremony.

You go for the carry on that rests on top of your bags, knowing it holds extra strength pain killer. You take two, this hangover the worst you’ve ever felt. You refresh yourself in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and brushing your teeth.

You stumble back into the main room, greeted by Eddie sat up on the bed with a charmed look on his face. “How you doin,’” he asks, seeming to know more than he let on.

“My head hurts,” you whine, crawling into bed and wriggling your way in his arms.

“With how drunk you were last night, sweets, I bet it does,” he laughs, remembering the way he was barely unable understand the slurred words that came from your mouth. “You were so sweet, my love, and a very sloppy kisser, might I add.”

You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, the feeling getting worse as you hear his deep chuckles. “What did you see?”

Eddie is in his hotel room by 1:30, the night wrapped up early after too many rounds of shots and a rush of nostalgia from even some of the original Hellfire members joining in on the fun. They weren’t going to the wedding, but they had more than enough fun in making fun of him.

At 3:00, a few light knocks interrupt his late-night rerun. He was already yawning, his age setting in, but still waiting up for you. Through the peep hole, he sees your two best friends holding you by the arms, your eyes half open as your head sways. “Jesus,” he mumbles, rushing to unlock the chain and door lock. He opens the door with wide eyes, facing his fiancée who is giggling and hanging off her two best friends.

“Oh, thank God.” Skyler mutters, praising when Eddie opened the door. “Here, take your wife.”

You stumble forward into his arms, giggling madly when your face sees his. “You’re pretty.”

“Hi, sweets,” Eddie greets you, struggling to hold you up as your legs wriggle under him. “Have fun?”

You nod, wide smile on your face. “Kiss me.” Eddie is overtaken by how much tongue you give to him, hands hurriedly grabbing at the shirt he’s wearing, attempting to take it off and assumingly forgetting about the audience you held in the hallway.

“Whoa, whoa, baby.” He unpeels your hands and stops them, pushing them down. “I think you’re a little too drunk for that, go lie down, I’ll be right there, yeah?”

You nod, slowly staggering towards the bed, landing in a starfish position right in the middle. “So, uh, thought you said you wouldn’t get her too drunk?”

If he wasn’t so concerned for your liver, he’d laugh at the way your friends’ eyes bug out of their skulls. “We tried, we really did, girl was a runaway with a credit card.”

“You didn’t think to take her card away?”

Bethany squeaks, happy for her friend, but never wanting to be on the other side of his protectiveness again. “Oh, we tried. Also, she told us some stories.”

Eddie is afraid he already knows what she means by stories. “Stories?”

“Mmmhmm. We went from begging for one to not being able to shut her up.” Skyler explains, smiling meekly at the end of her sentence.

“Remind me not to send her out on a girls’ night with you two, anymore.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need her having liver failure by the time she hits thirty.”

“I mean, it was probably the excitement and all…” Bethany tries to mend but gives up at Eddie’s glare. “We’ll pick her up at 9 for the hair appointment?”

“You do that.” Eddie scrunches his face. “Thanks for getting her back safe, but I am seriously concerned for your lack of self-preservation. Goodnight.”

He doesn’t let them respond, closing the door and locking up for emphasis.

He slowly helps you take the dress that fits you extremely well off, assisting you into a pair of pyjamas. When he tucks you in under the blankets, you grab onto his shirt, yanking him in for a kiss. “Want you.”

Eddie doesn’t need any elaboration, feeling the way your hips sloppily grinded up towards him. “I know, baby, but you are way too drunk.”

“Pretty please?” You ask, your voice and face desperate in your want.

He sighs, petting your face gently. “I can make you cum, if that would help my baby?”

You nod, mewling in agreement.

“Okay, just to help you fall asleep, yeah?” You nod again as his fingers slide their way into your soaked panties, working them as he watches you fall apart easily under him.

It took you less than a minute to cum, he didn’t even slide one in. Damn. He was actually looking forward to dipping in your wet heat. You thank him repeatedly, yawning as you turn over and fall asleep in seconds.

He then had a hard on to get rid of, somehow turned on at how even when your mind is foggy all you can do is want him.

He fell asleep with you clinging onto him like a koala bear.

Eddie switches his glance back to you, smirking at the worried expression you wear on your face. “That even when you’re incredibly inebriated, you still just want me.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “But, I did want to request that you don’t destroy your liver, I was very concerned for you.”

You peer up at him, taken aback by how much his eyes convey the same message. “Okay.” You plant a clean, sober kiss on his lips, humming when his hands pet your hair. “Only because I never want to wake up not knowing what I did ever again.”

Eddie laughs, wondering what those CCTV cameras must’ve looked like. “Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

You lie on his chest, petting the patchy hair there. “What?”

“We’re getting married today.”

You can’t help it, grinning madly at this sentence and the pride in his voice. Holy shit, you’re getting married today.

Only ten more minutes of pure bliss, sharing sweet kisses and exchanging words of excitement do you get before the cavalry arrives, both your bridesmaids and Eddie’s groomsmen storming the room together.

He kisses you fiercely as he’s shooed out the hotel room, not able to get enough in before he sees you in that dress. “Love you!”

The door is shut, but you shout it back anyway, suddenly the excitement and the joy of your day settling in.

Holy shit, you’re marrying Eddie Munson, today.

Since you called almost one month ago, the only hair salon in town has been booked for you and your bridesmaids until noon. The stylist is full of questions about how you met, how long you’ve been together, what he does for work, all things you’re more than happy to explain. You didn’t ask for much, only curls that braided into a crown at the base of your head, but you didn’t want to risk spending hours on it.

She leans in as soon as your hair is done, reaching your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror. “Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re the one marrying Eddie Munson, right?”

Your eyes bug, biting your lip. “Mmhm,” you confirm, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

“Don’t worry, small town things.” She laughs, taking the cape off you. “Your makeup artist just got here, I’ll let her take care of you in this seat.”

You thank her graciously, appreciating the companionship and conversation she provided, despite the nerves really starting to set in.

Thanks to a string of emails shared between you and the makeup artist, she has a great idea of exactly what you’re wanting, a natural look with the smallest hint of smoke. You find yourself having déjà vu when she asks the same questions, naming the groom to boot. The repetition is oddly comforting, you’d even call it soothing.

“Alright just a finishing touch, and you are all…done!” She hands you a hand mirror, and you couldn’t have done it better if you tried.

No. Seriously. You’ve tried.

Your bridesmaids all get their make up done, too, the group sitting in a circle as they talk absolute nonsense. “Dude, you’re the chilliest bride ever, we don’t have to wear matching dresses and you paid for our hair and make up? To think Skyler thought you were gonna be a bridezilla!”

You quirk your eyebrow at Skyler, who was in the middle of getting her make up done. For free. “Sky?”

“Hey, you were the one who always wanted the fairytale wedding,” Skyler rebuttals, raising her hands up in surrender.

“I said that like, a year ago!” You protest, a little defensive.

Skyler laughs, loud enough to stop all the other conversations in the salon. “Babe, you said that the week before you met your groom!”

Your eyes roll, a little embarrassed from being called out. “Yeah, okay, so before I met someone, I’m willing to give up a fairytale wedding for?”

“I mean he would’ve given you one,” your sister peeps out, having been quiet this entire time. “Pretty sure you didn’t need to give it up.”

“You have any idea how long those weddings take to plan?” You ask crossing your arms in your seat. “I was not going to wait that long.”

“Down, girl.” Bethany laughs, the rest of the salon following suit.

As soon as the stupidly massive bill is paid with a card that bares a name you’ll soon share, you’re brought back to the hotel room.

All you asked from your bridesmaids that they dress in something that makes them feel comfortable, but not something they’d wear to a night out.

As soon as they’re all dressed, they surround you in a circle of love as they help you get into your dress. Not that it requires them to help you out, but the sentiment is certainly there. Just when you thought you looked great in the dress when you initially tried it on, it’s nothing with everything tied together. God forbid someone call you out for being weepy, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried.

“You ready, Miss. Bride?” Bethany, your maid of honour asks, petting your hair as she meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Nope.” You answer, without a lick of hesitation. “Yet at the same time, I have never been more ready.”

“Usually I would harp on you for being cheesy, but that was actually really touching,” Skyler admits. You promise to yourself you wouldn’t hold the mist in her eyes against her, (no matter how hard she makes it.)

Your heel lands on the pavement of the cement, getting out of the car Bethany and Skyler took to the church. In the entrance hall of the church you meet your parents and the groomsmen, Eddie tucked away so he can’t see him, or rather, he can’t see you.

As the groomsmen pair up with the bridesmaids, (Bethany blushing as her arms are wrapped around Steve’s), your dad’s hand lands on your shoulder, kind eyes behind his round classes peering at you. “You, ok, there?”

“I’m so nervous.”

He takes these words in, nodding in consideration. “What exactly are you nervous about?”

A rush of emotion takes over you, resisting the urge to glance down the aisle to where you know Eddie’s about to start making his way down any moment now. “How badly I want this.”

“Nothing else?” You nod your head, no reluctance in it. “Well, then all you have to do is start down that aisle.”

The music you picked, a cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love, starts at 3’clock on the dot, much to the way your heart flutters.

Steve approaches you, arm around Bethany’s. “I helped Eddie sneak through, he didn’t see a single thing, and he’s already on the opposite side of the aisle waiting for you.” You nod, your eyes apparently bug wide. “Breathe. If it helps, he’s been a wreck all day.”

That helps. That helps more than he knows. “Really?”

“It was kind of annoying, honestly.” Steve answers, face twisted up. “Well, we’re about to miss our cue in the song, see you there.”

“Uh huh,” you answer, warm under the kiss he plants on your cheek.

Arm in arm with Dylan, Skyler winks at you as she soon follows.

Did your sister really have to walk the aisle with Arlo?

Your dad’s arm hooks in yours, patting your hand comfortingly. “It’s time.”

But I can’t help…falling in love with you.

There’s only about 30 or so people in the pews, but even as they all stand with their eyes on you, you’re glad there’s so few. However as soon as your eyes meet his chocolate ones on the other end, you forget all the nerves, all the anxiety, all the worry.

First, your mouth curls into an involuntary smile. Not by any means of sadness, does your smile fade and turn to tears. A laugh bubbles from your chest, the mixture of tears and laughter confusing you. Maybe it has something to do with the tears that also reflect in his eyes, and the way you can’t look away from him, but you could swear there’s only the two of you in the church.

The two of you in the world, really.

There’s a squeeze on your arm, your dad reminding you he’s with you every step on the way, but your eyes are glued in place. The closer you get to him, the wider his smile grows, yours growing as a direct answer. A tear escapes, and escape in the sense that you’ve done your best to hold them back, mouthing I love you to him.

If he didn’t have as much pride as he does, you know he’d be just as weepy as you are.

Finally, you reach the end of the aisle. “I’m proud of you,” your dad whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Now, go get married.”

You finally exchange a smile with him, quickly embracing his hug. “Thanks, dad.”

You step up to the altar, eyes raking over the sea, or pond, of people in the pews. Eliza sits with her mom in the front seat, excitedly waving to a couple that only has eyes for one another.

Finally, your hands extend to hold his, switching back to face him. Oh, just when you thought he looked handsome, it turns out he gets impossibly more so when wearing a suit. A gorgeous, black suit, accentuating his slim hips and his hair loosely gelled down.

His eyes rake over you, eyes unable to stay in one place on you. “You look beautiful.” Eddie whispers, voice deep and breathless.

You sigh, another tear leaving your eye. “Unfairly handsome.”

“You been crying?” He asks, holding your face to wipe them away.

Your lean your head into his hand, closing your eyes in sweet relief. “You’ve been, too,” you sigh, noting the single tear streaked down his face.

The person you’ve chosen to marry you has no true significance, and Steve had initially suggested he do it, but who cared. However, the pastor has known Eddie since he was a teenager, more than happy to marry him to you.

His words fade into the background, a few verses about love and anecdote or two about it in his speech. Truthfully, nothing matters but his eyes on yours and the way his gaze makes you feel.

A chorus of laughter echoes through the church, catching your attention, finally. “Seems we you got back again.” When you both look at him confused, he chuckles deeply. “We understand you’ve written your own vows?” You look at one another, but there’s no hint of any shame. “Eddie, you may go first.”

“I wish that I know how much that one shower would change my life,” Eddie starts, his thumb rubbing over your fingers. “I got in, stressing about the shop, then I got downstairs, and I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Oh, fuck. “I have to be honest, I know you keep saying you’re lucky, but I really am the lucky one that you saw anything in this old schmuck. Everyday I have done nothing but the best to feel deserving of your love, to make sure you aren’t taken for granted.”

The tears that stream down your face are uncontrollable. “Sometimes I don’t think I have any right to feel any right to feel as protective or possessive over you as I am, until you surprise me by saying something that puts words in my mouth, the same ones I’d have been thinking all that time. To love this much and to be loved the same in return is a miracle that I will never take advantage of, my love. You will never feel taken advantage of, never worry about money or shelter, and never worry about my loyalty to you.

“I love you. I will never be ashamed of it, I will never ask more of you than you can give. You have already given me everything you have, whether I deserve it or not, and I will give you the same, every time. To be honest, I have marvelled over what to say to you, staring at a blank page. All I can say is that you will never doubt my love for you. Ever.”

God, your makeup must be completely ruined by now from the tears and the snot. Halfway through Bethany came in clutch, offering tissues from her brassiere. Your ears could’ve been tricking you, but you swear up and down there are sniffles echoing from the audience.

“Now that we all had a chance to collect our selves, our beautiful bride, your turn.” You nod, blinking in surprise when you notice there’s a wetness in his eyes, as well.

“That’s gonna be hard to follow,” you laugh, the witnesses laughing with you. “Eddie. My love. To say it is a miracle that I love you this much and you love me just as much is an understatement. It’s not just a miracle, it’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had. That day also started differently for me, in ways I still regret to this day,” you say, looking behind him to where Dylan stands. “You come downstairs with your wet hair and, well, you, and it is true more than I could describe that I did fall in love with you in that moment, too.” His tears aren’t as messy as yours was, but Steve comes in clutch with a tissue as well.

“Every day I’m with you, all other fears seem to fade and disappear. Nothing else matters, I can truly get through everything with you by my side. It’s no lie that I am outrageously attracted to you, but I don’t think anyone could blame me for it.” He laughs at this, rolling his eyes in dismissal. “It’s the only part of my attraction though, I will deny anyone that could even dare to insinuate otherwise. Until I met you, I never knew I could feel this loved, this happy or satisfied by anyone’s mere existence, alone.

With you, I am happy. Even when I’m not. With you, I am both protected and taken care of. The way you protect me, I will do the same. The way you take care of me, I will do the same. Your sweet selflessness will never be taken advantage of, in any such way. From the moment I saw you, Edward Munson, I knew. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

“Jesus Christ.” It wouldn’t have been too alien to guess that it was Eddie who said it, but the very sniffles and exclamation came from behind him, Steve using his suit jacket to wipe a tear away.

“You okay, bud?” Eddie asks, also using his tissue.

“Just marry the girl, already.”

“Well, we do have some papers to sign.” The pastor escorts you to where your legal papers sit, names written for everything except the date and final signitures.

Steve signs, followed by Bethany, both sporting shiny eyes. She winks her green eyes at you, handing you the pen. When you sign yours, Eddie places a kiss on your neck, sweet and gentle. When he signs his, your fingers cling to the silk material of his jacket.

“Well, I think you two have seemed to wait long enough. I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride.” Eddie doesn’t even bother waiting until the end of the sentence to grab your face and plant a kiss on your lips, knocking the air out from your lungs from the love that surrounds you. He doesn’t care about his audience, barely takes note of the applause that breaks out, kissing you in a way that you normally wouldn’t dare in front of your parents on a good day.

Who fucking cares, you’re announcing your love to the world, they’ll get over it.

The flashes of Jeremy Byer’s camera is in your face as you walk down the aisle of the church together, hand in hand with him, fingers nearly losing feeling in your fingers as he grips onto you tightly.

When you stop in the church corridor, all that can be felt is a sense of celebration. You did it. All you need to do now, is party. “Oh my god, finally.”

He chuckles, wrapping you in his arms. “Can I tell you something, love?” You nod, inhaling his sweet cologne. “The moment I saw you in this pretty dress I got rock hard.”

You lick your lips, eyeing him up and down. “You don’t think your words made me absolutely drenched, Ed?”

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, kissing you sweetly again.

There wasn’t a moment to escape for a few hours, whisked off to an area surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery to take pictures, surrounded by the wedding party. On the phone, all you communicated is that you needed someone to take pictures of the wedding party for portraits as well as individual shots of you and Eddie, and Jeremy was a complete gem.

As soon as the portraits are over, every portrait where you look in his eyes not feeling a hint of cheesiness or falsehood, you are to head back to the hotel conference room for a reception.

Traditional receptions usually hold a first dance, speeches, embarrassing moments, cake cutting ceremonies, etc. To be completely honest you don’t trust your best friend or his to make speeches that won’t embarrass the two of you completely. And rather than sit for dull speeches, you told Eddie all you wanted was to celebrate with him and a DJ playing all the songs the two of you love, the wild combination it is.

You told your dad you would dance with him for the song that would’ve been your father-daughter dance, but nearly no traditions kept up for the reception.

The hotel offered a few plates of entrees for your guests before the DJ announces you two as a married couple something you accepted with a small external deposit. Steve oversaw ordering 20 pizzas in varying flavours, the very thing you’ll be doing instead of cake or dinner.

You hold your new husband’s hand in excitement as the DJ announces your arrival, the first announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Munson to some dad-rock song that he personally requested.

Well, the only thing you really splurged on for the reception was the open bar.

You pet the curls at Eddie’s neck, swaying together to the first slow song that the DJ played. Your lips are already kiss-bruised from your long day spent kissing him, but it doesn’t possibly prevent you kissing him any more, every single one he gives you somehow making you dizzier than last.

“Baby.” He grunts, getting your attention. He nods behind you, gesturing to the left. You turn you head to face Arlo and Viti, her eyes shining bright as she stares up at him, dancing even slower than you were.

“I’m gonna have to accept that, aren’t I?” You say, noting the special way her face is cradled by his hand and the way she leans into it.

“Looks like it, sweets.” Eddie says, his eyes still on you when you look back to him.

You sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Hey, I gotta get going, I’m getting exhausted.” You look over to face Wayne, grinning in his plaid and slacks.

“Of course, thanks for coming.” Eddie says, giving him a hug. “So glad you could meet her.”

“Are you kidding, Ed? With those vows? Next time I see you, you better warn me before you make me cry like that.” Wayne laughs winking. “I’m glad you two found each other.”

“Love you, Wayne.” You say, grabbing him in for a big hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”

Wayne hugs him, too, gripping onto him tightly. “Thanks for the open bar, you two.”

The way you surround yourself with your friends and family, dancing up and down as the music bumps, the lights down with strobe lights flashing. In the middle of it, Eddie starts kissing your neck hands roaming and making you feel everything.

Eddie tugs on your hand as he leads you to a crowded hallway, a dead end with nowhere to go to. Your back collides with the wall as he kisses you, feverously and deliciously hungry for you as you are for him. “Oh, sweet love, do you know how crazy you make me in that pretty dress?” His hands hurriedly make their way under the skirt of your dress, ruffling it up as he presses himself against you. “I have been mercilessly hard since the moment you started coming down that aisle, baby.”

“You gonna fuck me in the hallway, Eddie?” You ask, breathless, “Can’t hold back that badly?”

“From the moment I first kissed you, I haven’t been able to hold back from you, love. You think I can hold back when you drive me as crazy as you do?” His kisses trail down your neck, nibbling and simultaneously inhaling your scent. “My wife, my gorgeous, lovely, beautiful, bride.”

You gasp, head tilted up as he effortlessly lifts you by your hands lifting under your thighs. “Need your cock, Ed.”

“Yeah, you need me to fuck you ruthlessly, my love?”

You nod hands shaky as you attempt to undo his dress pants. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie yanks your panties down your thighs, marveling at the lacy fabric. “Fuck, I need that sweet, tight, pussy.”

Before you knew it, Eddie was lining himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, hurry up, before someone comes for looking for us.”

“You think I care if someone walks in on me fucking my wife?” Eddie asks, and his question sounds genuine. “I couldn’t care less if someone walks in on us, at least they could get a good show, we could give ‘em someone to be jealous of, yeah?”

Hopelessly, you feel impossibly more turned on by his dirty perfect words. “Then give me your big cock, Ed. Please.”

Eddie pushes into you, filling you completely. “Oh, there’s that cock drunk face I’ve been wanting to see.”

“Eddie, cock, so big!”

He doesn’t waste a second bucking into you, harsh and ruthlessly perfect. “Somehow your pussy gets better every time I fuck you, sweets. How tight you are, how perfect, oh, if I didn’t love it so much I would say it needs to be illegal.”

“The only thing that should be illegal, Ed, is how good you are with words.” Eddie laughs, hot breath down your neck. “God, you make me so happy…”

“Can’t wait to see you big and pregnant, sweets.” Eddie sighs, repeatedly bucking into you. “Wanna fill you with my babies.”

“Want your babies.” You gasp.

“Where the hell did they go?” Down the hall, you hear someone but it doesn’t occur that it even needs to matter. “God, need to put a bell on those two—oh my god!”

Your head turns to the noise, seeing your best friend standing in the hall with her eyes covered by her hands. “Either stay and enjoy the show,” Eddie stops to gasp, “or take off back to the hall.”

“I-I’m so sorry…I’ll see you in the dancing room,”

You giggle, tugging him in for a big kiss. “Sweet girl.” He laughs, starting to fuck you even harder.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie.” You beg, nails digging into the hair on his neck. “Wanna be filled with you.”

“I am going to keep you good and full on the honeymoon, my good whore,” Eddie mutters and you can feel him start to fall apart. “Gonna fuck you everywhere I can, put on a good show for everyone.”

You tighten around him, turned more than ever by his words. “I love you, Mr. Munson.”

He smiles, colliding his forehead against yours. “I love you, more, Mrs. Munson.”

You don’t know what it is about your new name, but it’s what gets the both of you off, Eddie’s cum filling you up deliciously.

Bethany avoids your eye as soon as you get into the room, and you’re sure she’ll get over it, not like you haven’t heard her and her ex-boyfriend many times.

“Hey, heard you traumatized your maid of honour.” Steve laughs, clutching a slice of pizza in one hand, and a drink of whiskey in the other.

You yank the piece, suddenly aware of how little you’ve eaten. “I thought she’d know better to walk in on us by now.” You laugh, taking a large bite.

Steve checks his watch, the very same hand you just yoinked the pizza from. “Doesn’t your flight take off in about the next three-ish hours?”

Eddie checks his, gulping in answer. “Oh, shit.” You check it with him, having a flight out that same night. “Should we get going, love?”

You nod, placing your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

Everyone applauds as you walk out in a sweet white dress, ready to take off to Cancun with your husband, walking down the lane surrounded by love.

Everyone gives you a hug, wishing you well on your long honeymoon.

“Don’t expect to hear from us!” You call, getting in the car that Eddie ordered.

The heat from sun is beautiful, sandals flopping in sync as you walk from the taxi that brought you to the hotel. “Jesus, Eddie.” You mutter, looking at your extravagant surroundings. “You did not need to spend this much on the hotel.”

“Well, get used to being spoiled, baby girl.” He mutters, leading you to the check in desk.

The check in attendant smiles sweetly, covertly putting one side of her hair behind one of her ears. She speaks with a thick Mexican accent, giving her best customer service smile. “Hi, checking in?”

“Yes, under the name Munson, please.” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around you.

“Oh, the honeymoon suite!” She exclaims, her smile brightening. “Well, to start, congratulations on your nuptials, and every request is completely fulfilled, no problem. As asked, we will not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary, and we have already booked the spa for your wife.”

“Spa?” You ask, eyebrow tilting towards him. “I love the sound of that.”

“Knew you would.”

“And you have a dinner reservation tonight at 7. Any questions, feel free to call the front desk, any time of the day,” she says, handing the card with the room number.

The floor level with your room only has a few rooms. Eddie taps his card on the door to open it, opening to a room with a damn kitchen suite and a separate room for the bed. “What the hell did you spend?” You ask him, mouth gapping open as your bags slip out of your bags.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, love.” Eddie walks to you, hands caressing your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “C’mon, we have king bed I want to take advantage of.”

“What was that about no interruptions?” You ask him, petting his curls.

“You think we’re leaving this room for the next six hours?” he asks, lightly pushing you towards the double doors that open to the bedroom.

His words make you literally insane, wanting him more than you ever have. “W-what?”

“Baby, I am going to absolutely ravish you for so long you won’t even remember your own name.” He claims, already pulling the zipper down your back. “But you will remember your new last one.”

Your back is laid on the bed, Eddie pulling your panties down, biting on the second pair of lacey lingerie you wear for him in less than 24 hours. “Sweet girl, look how soaked you are for me.”

“Need you.” You grunt, anticipating Eddie finally tasting you from the feel of his hot breath on your pussy, sending shivers down your spine as Eddie places your legs over his shoulders.

Eddie kisses you, nose nuzzling in your intoxicating scent, his hilted nose hitting right up against your clit. “Fuck, are you wet, baby.”

“Can you blame me, I just married the hottest man alive!” You moan, heels pulling him in.

“My wife is the prettiest, and I will be spending my life making sure everyone around me knows how smoking hot you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to eat.”

Your hands fly into his short curls, lying restlessly as Eddie devours you. Your first orgasm takes over your body, invading every sense with mind numbing pleasure.

By the third one invades your body, everything is too much, feels too good, “Fuck! Eddie I can’t, I can’t!”

“You can, my girl, of course you can. Remember what I said about making you forget your name? I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He laughs, thumb circling your clit.

By the fifth orgasm you eventually learn that not even begging will stop him if he can help it. “You got a safe word, use it.”

His fingers hook in your warmth, driving you to another one, to which this point you’ve lost count. You swear you’re speaking to him, but in all truth, it is all incoherent. You’re trying to tell him how much you love him, and how good he makes you feel, but Eddie can’t make a single word out of it.

“What’s your name, hmm?” Eddie asks, spitting on your pussy dirtily.

You tell him, gasping for air.

“I see, still not enough yet.”

It takes 11 orgasms to finally drive you to the point where tears are falling from your eyes, both in happiness and straight pleasure. Eddie’s face is straight up soaked in you, the slick drenching his face like a beard. “Alright, beautiful wife, what’s your name?”

Your head lifts up, loopy at the idea that you even had a name to begin with. All that comes out is desperate gasps.

“There we go.” He mutters, crawling up your body. “Think you can handle my cock, or do you think you’re done, baby.”

Your hand reaches out for him, tugging him by his holiday shirt. You can’t communicate, all words left your brain, but you do know you still want his cock.

“Of course, I will still fuck my good girl.” Eddie answers, wiping the tears that fell down your face away.

You’re limp as he fucks into you, hands gripping your hips ruthlessly. All he can do is mutter how much he loves you, and how good of a girl you just were for him, and he could watch you fall apart all day, especially after marrying you.

He fills you up again, arms wrapping from behind you as you fell straight asleep, still muttering sweet nothings and wishes of his love.

The first thing that happens when you wake up, is your knees collapse from under you when you try to get up to use the bathroom.

After the mind numbing pleasure he just gave you, you suppose it only made sense. As you brush your teeth, he walks up behind you, his naked torso against your bare back as he kisses your neck gently. “Feel good?”

You laugh, almost choking on the toothpaste in your mouth. “Yes, baby.” You nod, spitting it into the sink. “It’s not past 7, is it?”

He turns you around to face him, giving you a sweet look of love. “Nope. Actually it’s in about an hour. Get ready, sweet stuff.”

“Actually, one minute.” You giggle, grabbing him by the hand before he can leave the bathroom.

“Hmm?” He asks, face questioning.

“Just need to do one thing…” You couldn’t help it, knowing he spent the better part of two hours just going down on you before you napped together. You get on your knees.

“What—oh, oh! Oh, fuck.”

After being bent over the sink in the bathroom, Eddie and you make your way into the front of the restaurant.

The host leads the way, sitting you in a corner of the dining room.

Eddie orders you a sweet cocktail and him a bourbon, eyeing you over the menu.

You returned the favour, making him cum twice before he finally begged to just fuck you.

The dinner is filled with your hopes and dreams, things you’ve been too worried to tell one another, scared of coming across too much.

Eddie wants to raise three kids with you. You agree, confessing how hard you fell for him after seeing him chase Eliza. He doesn’t plan on moving, but might if you asked him to.

You’re only working because you’re scared of relying on him, or making him feel like a bank. He doesn’t care, you can work or not, it’s completely up to you. Sometimes you worry about him being afraid to tell you when he is feeling too achy, joints too sore, or is not ready for something. Truly, honestly, Eddie is more worried about you thinking he’s too old for you.

It was never a worry to begin with, despite the 22-year age gap.

If you could stop asking yourself how it’s possible to keep falling for someone harder, you would.

When Eddie takes the dress you wear off, he’s whispering sweet promises, somehow even sweeter than the vows he told you.

It was two more rounds before you fell asleep in his arms once more.

Camille works her front desk, filling in some paperwork and starting her opening shift duties. “Hi Linda!” She says, greeting one of the maids who has been working there 15+ years. “Morning, Linda! Any updates?”

Linda leans in, as she always does when she has hot gossip. “Were you the one that checked in that newly wed couple yesterday?”

“Uh, Munsons on the eighth floor?” She asks, remembering the way he touched her ass so brazenly in front of her. “Yeah, I remember them.”

“Well every maid has heard them over the last 24 hours, they are relentless with one another.”

Camille resists from laughing, eyes bugging out of her head. “Like…?”

“Yes. Exactly like that.” She looks both ways before leaning in again.

“And trust me when I say they are loud.”

“Well, I guess I know why they didn’t want to be interrupted,” She laughs, barely holding back in laughter.

The hot sand lies underneath your towel, one foot bent, the other extended as your sunglasses barely shade you from the sun. One ear pod is in your ear, the other in Eddie’s, listening to a sweet mixture of both your music taste.

Eddie lies almost directly next to you, body in direct touch with yours. You’ve been there for barely an hour, sun cascading down on you. “Hey sweet thing,” Eddie starts, turning towards you, leaning on his elbow.

You take the earpiece out, lifting your head to look at your smoking hot husband. “Hmm?”

“C’mon, we’re going for a swim.” Eddie says, holding your hand out for your earpiece. “C’mon.”

You hand it to him, letting the dress you wear over your bathing suit fall off your body. “It’s unfair how hot you are.” He says, eyes appreciating you blatantly.

One of the only things you’ve kept from your relationship with your now stepson, (still weird), is the bathing suit you wore when you met Eddie. You made sure he didn’t see it until this moment, and it was worth the wait. Even as you run straight to the water, you’re utterly aware of how Eddie is chasing you, giggles invading the otherwise quiet beach as you splash into the water.

As you swim together, you can see the sweat that beads on his skin from the hot sun. You can’t help but splash him, enjoying every moment with him in the eerily blue water. “You like my swimsuit?”

He grabs you so your legs easily wrap around his waist, lips meeting the salt on his skin from the sweat. “Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing, baby.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

He laughs, arms pulling you in tightly, so you feel the boner in his trunks. “You don’t think I don’t remember what you were wearing when I first met you, sweets?” One hand slips to your bikini bottom sliding it over. “Those pink strings stayed etched in my mind for days.”

One finger slides in, Eddie watching your reaction carefully. “Been thinking of ways to make you fall apart on a public beach ever since, and this is just one of them.” He feels you tighten up around him in response, a smile slowly creeping on the face. “Making you cum in the water, no one will be the wiser if you keep quiet.”

You gulp, placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Oh, fuck, daddy.”

“I know you love to be watched, hmm, my little minx?”

You nod, barely holding in any of the gasps that leave your throat. “Love people to see you like this, I just know you do.”

“Gonna make you cum, then we’re gonna fuck hidden away from the rest of them, yeah?” You nod, nails digging into his shoulder.

The feeling takes over you, withering in his arms as you try to stay quiet. The sloshing of the water around the two of you certainly doesn’t help, however. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, if I didn’t know water sex actually feels terrible, I’d have put it in by now.” Eddie muses, still grinding his tent against your cunt, still uncovered.

Eddie eventually finds a little secluded area sort of by the water, yet somewhere people might still be able to cross accidentally. His cock his perfect as it hits the spot repeatedly, and he doesn’t even give up after the first time he fills you up. “Listen to you whine for me like a little slut.” He moans, untying the strings on your neck to reveal your tits. “I bet everyone on that beach can hear you.”

At this point you didn’t even care. “Let them listen.”

He laughs, sighing into your neck. “Whatever you say, pretty girl. Just keep taking this cock, let the chips fall where they may.”

It’s a miracle your stuff wasn’t stolen off the beach.

Eddie sends you to the spa, demanding you get everything and anything that tickled your fancy. When asked why he didn’t want to follow you, he gives the vaguest explanation in the world, and unfortunately he’s stubborn enough to wait until you give in.

So, a full body massage, a pedicure, sitting in a mud bath just because you can, and you come back to the hotel room feeling more pampered than you knew was possible. “Hey, Ed—” You stop short as soon as the red flower petals that lead you to the bedroom come into sight. “What--?”

All you can do is follow the giggles that radiate from the room.

The double doors open to him, sitting next to a table with a supper on it. “How you feelin, sweets?”

“Pampered.” You answer honestly, your feet twisting nervously.

“Good.” Eddie answers, picking up a dress you knew he had bought in light of being the only one to ever see you wear it. It’s…revealing…to say the least. “Put that on, then come sit down with me.” As his eyes rake down your body, lucky isn’t even close to how you’re feeling. “Man, I’m good.”

“What’s all this for?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?”

You laugh, sitting when he pulls the chair out for you. “No, I’m just—”

“I get it.” Eddie offers, sitting across the small table. “It feels a bit much, to me, too. But man, I need you to know how much I love you, sometimes or I will melt.”

Do I even need to tell you how the evening ended? I’ll give you a hint; love bites that cover your neck, passed your breast, and trailing all the way to your pussy.

“Since when do you dance, anyway?” You ask him after he tells you the purpose of your walk for the night.

“Since grinding against you in a club was an option.” Eddie answers, laughter bubbling behind in his voice.

He leads you through a crowd of people dancing to a Latin beat, heavy on horns and percussion. He doesn’t give you a chance to even hesitate, his fingers strong on your exposed hips from the cut out in your dress, his knee planting itself in between your legs.

The heat makes his curls frazzle, the constant salt on his skin sweet. From the last two weeks spent in the sun, he’s starting to get a sun-kissed glow. His hand intertwines itself into your hair, tugging on the scalp as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, somehow still moving his hips against yours simultaneously.

“This is the best feeling.” He mutters, not expanding any more.

“What?” You mewl, your hips truly starting to give in to the beat.

“Knowing I have the hottest girl here.” He states, as if it’s a straight fact.

“Imagine how I feel.” You state, knowing for a fact no one even compares to his level.

Eddie turns you around, mouth kissing against your neck as your hand lands on the curls that now are surprisingly already getting some growth again.

He can’t stop his wondering hands. He never can. As if he has the strength to. They never actually touch anything, but they do grab at your ass, your thighs, even feel your tit up. Eddie loves the heat that radiates your pussy, a signal of how fantastic he makes you feel, and how much you want him, no matter where you are.

As you hop bar to bar, drink to drink, dance to dance, by the time you stumble back into the hotel room together you’re both so revved up, you don’t even bother taking your clothes off.

Your reputation throughout the hotel is how intensely you feel for one another, how badly you love each other, and usually they’d just chop it up to newlyweds, but this was a different intensity. Most of the maids haven’t even seen your faces, but they know for a plenty of intimate details just from cleaning on the same floor.

There’s not a single noise complaint, as the floor of the newlywed suites are basically made to make it your oasis.

By the end of the third week, you get homesick for your little house with him, homesick for your own bed. Eddie has spent all the time in the world ravishing you wherever he can, and it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a single second on your knees in a public setting.

Camille, a woman who has spent the three weeks recommending local restaurants and helping Eddie with his little schemes, helps you check out and speaks to you over the desk as if you were an old friend. “By the way, I hope you know you two have gained quite the reputation here. Have a safe flight.”

Eddie’s truck is in the driveway when you get home, Steve promising to bring it back as one of his many best-man duties.

As your back hits your back, it’s better than ever to be home, glancing up at the popcorn ceiling. As you’re lying down, you notice a slight ache in your nipples that isn’t very normal for you. No mind, you would grab a test from under the sink and take it just in case.

Is…is that two lines? Is that two lines?

That’s definitely two lines.

“Shit.”

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #older!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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s0lar-ch3ri · 4 months

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what if i wanted to make another insane promo post?

yeah, ik, its promo time again. BUT this time around i do wanna add in the post both my cousin and niece

one thing i did get wrong, heartz is my niece, starz is my cousin! this will basically be going over what each of these 2 do (...and im also adding in a bonus competitor/promoed person, well actually 2 because I GOT A CHANNEL YIPPEE)

each channel will be seperated up so yeah lets go!

first channel:

Starzzz.andgalaxy (my actual cousin, lol) is a great yter who absolutely deserves to be celebrating more then just 170 subs! since shes actually here with me, i can let her say a lil something on the matter:

"hello! I would love to reach 200 subscribers at least, I think my hard work should not be for nothing!" <- her typing

shes very very fun (and also with this i hope all the god damn hate comments shut lol) and does very cool things such as:

Roblox videos

(comment is from me lol, we'll get there soon) For right now these are just rating videos of her avatar, but I find them very fun (plus since I play roblox if needed I can help with filming lol)! Not much to say on it cause it's not a common kind of post, so onto the next form, which is:

2. Art

As you can see, she does very cool art, this one in particular is a tutorial on how to draw bodies. Is it the best? No, but the fact she's trying makes it great! (this is also where I've seen a couple hate comments come up, so yeah, I'm trying to be mature enough to not commit violence for her upon them) She does admit this video isn't her best work, but she does A LOT of very very cool drawings! Go check them out and her channel of course! There is one thing she also posts about which I love most of all...

3. Paper Dragons!!

(the first image is her first dragon, second is her most recent i think) I don't get how these things are "paper furries", but I do know THEY ARE SICK AS FUCK. I got to see one in person and they're very cool, all with different stories! I honestly wanna ask for one but right now, I'm gonna stick with watching them.

Channel link can be found here:

(this section was finished on january first of 2024, so at the point of this being posted she wont be over here, but i had her here so yeah :D i love my cousin)

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Second channel:

Heartzzz.❤️ is my niece, and she does similar content, but still does good content! A couple of videos of Starz and Heartz are them promoting each other, so yeah. While she is on vacation and can't be here to give her reasons to subscribe to you, I certainly can!

Memes

One thing I forgot to mention my cousin doing (well, actually my cousin's section is just kinda old because it's from when she last came over, but she's back to help me again, yay!) is making memes like this. Sometimes they do involve a paper dragon, but I think they're pretty funny and/or relatable (also dragons very cool)!

2. Edits (and Undertale related things)

I'm putting these 2 in the same category just because of the example image above. While my cousin has recently started doing edits, Heartz is the only 1 of the 2 to make anything Undertale related. While the Undertale stuff comes once every blue moon it seems, that doesn't make it any less enjoyable.

I actually found in her description a run down on what she does post, so here:

Link to her channel can be found right here:

(okay ik this section was really short, again, she posts similar things to my cousin, and i didnt wanna repeat, so yeah, if you want more reason, here's what the cousin herself says: "[Heartz] is really nice, she's a good artist, and she's creative"; time i finished this section was 1/15/2024 lol)

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third channel:

Boli and gang (or as their original user is + the profile picture says, Boli the bear) is the channel belonging to 2 kids I babysit! They're pretty new to making content, but they have a promising start already! Currently, their content consists of...

Animations

One of them has really been getting into animation, posting things like ball loops and such on their account. They're very interesting to watch personally!

2. Cool places

I'm not sure if this is going to be a common theme, but there is around 3-4 videos of places like this one. I have to admit, this has to be the prettiest of them all.

3. Art (+FNAF/Five Nights at Freddy's Content)

This is another one grouped together, but because this is the first drawing related one I've seen. They're very big FNAF fans, of course leading to things like this. Is it the best? No, but they tried very hard of course, and maybe you could leave some tips for them to improve with!

(they also post memes and funny videos, but I'd rather not do repetition; FINISHED THIS ALSO ON THE 15TH LETS GOOOOOOO)

Link to their channel can be found here:

Oh, one final reason, their profile picture is super cool! Can you guess who made it? This actually provides me with the perfect transition into...

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fourth/final channel:

ITS ME!!! FINALLY I CAN STOP DOING PROPER ASS TYPING

yeah, i have a youtube now, and there's like nothing on it minus a couple videos. all of them are made back in like 2021-2022? cant really remember, but i posted them for younger me's sake. i have like a couple more to get through, but afterwards im probs gonna do a bigger variety of content! art videos, jrwi edits, animations, rambles, essays, you name it! (might even stream again on twitch if that seems what the people like lol)

you may want actual reasons to subscribe, but i currently dont have any. i can only make promises of better future content, but right now i can admit theyre shit. i dont post often, its only oc related rn, all very vague, nothing that interests most people on my blog (cause i know a lot of you are here for jrwi content, huh?). this channel, the choice to subscribe is fully up to you, im not gonna sell myself to it, im simply just saying its real.

Link to the channel is found here:

if you at all took the time to read through my part, i appreciate it, but please do actually check out the other 3. after all, you can always find me here, but you cant find the others anywhere else!

(FINISHED THE REST OF THE POST ON 1/15/24 LETS GOOOOOOOOO)

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winedarkthoughts · 20 days

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house of addams (2)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 3.3k

— 🍄 summary: you and yoongi tackle your first day of fieldwork, and this town and it's mysteries prove to be stranger than they first appeared.

— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader and botanist!yoongi being nerds, mentions of death/missing persons, scientific inaccuracies lol

— 🕸️ a/n: and the mystery continues!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 2: but first, fieldwork

september 22, 2004

You've been having strange dreams. Normally, you don't remember most of your dreams, but these have been oddly vivid and long-lasting, like the lingering stench of a cigarette that sticks to your clothes.

In some, you're wandering through a forest, wading through a thick mist. No, not wandering, because it feels like you're searching for something, you just don't know what.

In others, you're submerged in murky green water. Tendrils of seagrass like twisting trees brush against your ankles. And there's a sound reverberating through the water, something like chittering and groaning at the same time.

When you wake up, the window above your bed is open, though you don't remember unlatching it last night. Just outside the glass is a canopy of green, bright and vigorous from the early dew.

You pull the window shut and dismiss the dreams completely from your mind, because you have things to do. Today is your first day of fieldwork with Yoongi, the botanist.

Yoongi is punctual, which you very much like. He arrives at the meeting spot three minutes early. Luckily, you were there ten minutes early.

"G'morning," he mumbles, his voice still raspy with sleep. His hair is ruffled and his eyes are slightly droopy. He's wearing dark jeans and a flannel, but appears comfortable in the frigid air.

"Morning, thanks for coming," you say, handing him the iced americano and glazed bun you just picked up from the coffee shop.

Cat's Den, it's called. The same barista from your previous visit was working, and he seemed just as cheerful.

"Thank you," Yoongi says with new life in his voice, gratefully sipping from his drink.

You inform him that your first stop will be the residence of Mrs. Bradley. You want him to see the strange fungus in person to get the most accurate identification.

The two of you pile into your Honda CRX. It's a beater car, with scratches on the exterior and ripped seats. You've had it ever since you were a teenager, but the engine has held up throughout the years.

When you ask Yoongi if he's heard of the death of Michael Bradley, he just scrunches his brows.

"I think it was in the paper once," he says. "Something about household cleaners and chemicals. The mayor kept it buttoned up, apparently."

Again, the mention of the mayor. She kept the case under wraps, but clearly she trusts Yoongi to know about it since she recommended him to you.

"Hmm, well Mrs. Bradley won't submit to questioning so far," you say, rattling with the car as it traverses over a ridge in the dirt road.

"So far?" Yoongi prompts, and you can hear the slight amusement in his tone.

The corner of your mouth tugs up in a barely concealed smirk. "I can be very persistent," you add.

You stop the car a block away from their house. Yoongi follows you dutifully when you exit wordlessly and make you way onto their lawn. The ring of mushrooms is still there. In fact, it appears to have gotten wider.

You drop to one knee and begin taking pictures.

"Won't Mrs. Bradley get upset?" Yoongi asks, looking into the dark windows of the house.

"She leaves for work at five a.m." you reply. "We'll be finished long before she gets back."

He doesn't reply, because the mushrooms have snagged almost every ounce of his attention.

"Very peculiar," he mutters to himself.

"Can you identify them?" you ask, trying not to divulge how much you're waiting on his reply.

Yoongi pulls a retractable magnifying glass from his pocket and flips it open, dropping to the damp earth beside you.

"Infundibuliform cap shape," he says, more to himself than to you. But from what you've gathered from the book, it means a "deeply depressed" cap shape. In this case, it makes the cap look like a set of tendrils. Reaching out.

Yoongi takes out a pair of tweezers and turns the mushroom this way and that, examining it.

Something catches your eye.

"Pores and gills?" you say. Typically mushrooms have one or the other, but this one has a membrane covered in small holes as well as an underside full of thin openings.

"False gills, ridges," Yoongi supplements, deep in concentration. "Gills can be detached, but ridges are built into the structure."

"Is that common among mushrooms?" you ask.

"Hmm, not entirely sure. Not a mycologist," he replies, snipping off one of the mushrooms and dropping it into a specimen bag.

A part of you lights up inside. It looks like he's going to help you with this whole thing, judging by his interest in the strange fungi.

You're greatly appreciative, because reading that book on mushrooms was not exactly the most effortless research endeavor. It was plenty interesting, but still chock full of scientific terminology that you aren't familiar with.

"I have a friend back at the university who can take a closer look at this," Yoongi says, rising to a stand.

A flutter in your stomach. This is coming along nicely. The more professional opinions you can get, the better.

"Take a look at this," you say, leading him to the rotted tree trunk.

You watch as his delicate features twist, perplexed. He really is very pretty, but you shouldn't be thinking such things.

"Is this common among trees?" you ask a little hesitantly. It's such a shame to break his concentration when he looks like that.

"Not that I know of," he mutters, taking a tentative step closer.

You did a bit of research on tree rot, but nothing you saw looked quite like this. Wood, even rotted wood, has a splintered appearance. This wood looks almost wet, maybe even flesh-like. It looks, and smells, like an infected wound.

You take plenty of pictures.

"Can I get a copy of those?" Yoongi asks, looking at you with wide, eager eyes. A cat that's caught sight of a treat.

"Yes, of course," you reply with only the slightest bit of difficulty.

"Thank you." He flashes you a gummy smile. Fuck.

"Okay," you blurt out suddenly, pretending to check your watch. "Let's get moving."

Your next location is the sight of Jarvis Laplan's death.

The forest, you've learned thanks to Yoongi's kind direction, has been unofficially divided into sections by the surrounding civilians. There's the "North Star" area, mostly made up of sparse trees and grasses. This is where most of the residential homes are backdropped against, including Bradley's.

Then "Gunman's," an area southwest of North Star. Aptly named, this is the designated hunting grounds, clearly labeled and fenced. A few residences outline Gunman's, including Laplan's. But Laplan wasn't found in Gunman's, he was found in Ulthar's Grove.

"Ulthar's Grove," south of Gunman's and absolutely NOT a hunting area. Apparently, local stray cats and other rodents flock to this area, roaming about freely and building nests in hollow tree stumps. Children and teenagers can sometimes be found playing in this area, because of the several residences tucked into its borders and the relative safety compared to other areas of the forest.

Then, at the center of it all, Lurking Lake. Aptly named, it is not well-inhabited and generally avoided by locals. A naturally formed lake, it is infested with algae, an invasive species of eel-like fish, and characterized by a distinctive musky smell.

You and Yoongi enter into Ulthar's Grove, weaving through gnarled trees and mossy stones.

As if he can't help it, Yoongi points out the names of the local flora as you pass them. The scientific names and the common names, seemingly for your benefit. It's quite amusing, watching his face light up when he recognizes a familiar species.

And you learn a lot, taking as many notes as you can on the local wildlife while navigating the path.

You don't notice, but Yoongi is sneaking glances at you while you scribble feverishly.

"Are my ramblings really that interesting?" he prods playfully.

Your attention is jerked from the page. You glance at him over your shoulder, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

"I try to remember everything I learn," you say, and your voice betrays none of the slight embarrassment you feel at being observed in your "natural habitat." Because you've always been very intent, maybe even obsessed, with collecting knowledge. You suppose that's one of the things that makes you good at your job.

As if he can sense your thoughts, Yoongi says, "So, you're a journalist?"

You never told him exactly what your occupation was, only that the mayor sent you. You hesitate for a moment. For some reason, you have no desire to lie to him.

"Private investigator," you reply.

He hums in acknowledgement. He doesn't ask who you were hired by, but the subtext is clear enough. The mayor recommended him to you for a reason, after all.

The two of you arrive at the site. No longer is it wrapped in police tape, but the same eerie air of caution still lingers.

Aged thirty-five, he was found in the woods. More specifically, in a little clearing among the closely-knit trees, in the center of a ring of dead grass.

Apparently, Laplan was dissatisfied with the control of local wildlife, and took it upon himself to do a bit of "population control." He was found in hunting gear with a .35 Remington, without a single shot fired.

Yoongi says that very little information was in the papers, similar to Bradley. Just a warning to civilians regarding a recent animal attack.

"He wasn't attacked, he was mauled," you can't help but say as you examine the site. The mayor gave you snippets of the police reports, but you still have yet to get your hands on the coroner's report.

"By what?" Yoongi asks, a strange hesitation in his voice.

You look at him.

"Not sure" you reply, turning your attention to the surroundings at hand.

Laplan was found here, among this break in the trees. The ring of dead grass remains, and half of you expects to see a pool of blood in the center of it. But there is nothing but brittle vegetation.

"What kind of animal?" Yoongi asks as he circles around the perimeter.

"A mountain lion, presumably." But for some reason, a reason that you can't name, you doubt it.

A wave of uneasiness ripples through you.

"Let's fan out a bit, try to see if any of the trees around here have the same rot," you call out, eager for a distraction.

The two of you explore the area for a while, noting irregularities in the plant life. Evidently, thanks to Yoongi's commentary, you discover that the surrounding plants appear to be dehydrated, despite the abundant rain. Neither of you find any of the strange mushrooms in this part of the woods.

Yoongi checks his watch at noon on the dot.

"We should get moving. You said there's one more site you wanted to visit, right?"

He's right, the site of Sharon Mason, the final and most recently deceased. You remember now that Yoongi said he had to leave at two p.m., though he didn't mention why.

Lurking Lake, and the surrounding woods which apparently don't have a name, according to Yoongi. They are simply known as "the woods surrounding Lurking Lake."

And you must say, the name lives up to its potential. First of all, it's bigger than you thought it would be. It has a presence, the beating heart of the forest.

Under the gray sky, the water is dark green with a peculiar, abysmal deepness. The perimeter of the lake is outlined by wild grass and moss-robed stones, and the outer edges of the water have a film of algae.

Fog hangs over the landscape like a misty curtain, swirling along the ground.

"She was found by the lake, right?" Yoongi asks, examining some sort of cattail grass by the lakeshore.

"In the lake," you correct, bending over to look closer at the pebbled shore.

"Barely anything in the papers again," Yoongi says before you get the chance to ask. "Mainly because they don't know all that much."

"Hmm," you reply, staring at some sort of microscopic, squirming plankton in the shallow lake water.

Sharon Mason, aged seventeen. Found floating in the lake. Homicide ruled out, apparently.

The third death in under three months, and it certainly left a mark on the community, especially since she was only a teenager. You wonder if this was the catalyst that drove the mayor to hire a private investigator.

"Has the college noticed anything unusual about the lake? In the ecosystem, I mean," you ask.

"Not that I know of," Yoongi immediately responds. A little too quickly.

You straighten up and watch as he paces around the edge of the water, hands in his pockets.

"Nothing?" you ask again, a little more pointed this time. Because you hardly believe that nothing has surfaced at the university. Why else would the mayor include investigative services in "ecological disturbances" in her job description?

"No, ma'am," Yoongi replies, and the politeness in his voice is incriminating.

You'll have to look into it.

"Well, I won't know the finer details until I get the coroner's report," you say.

Yoongi looks up at you.

"The coroner?" he asks, curiosity and something else in his tone.

"Yes, I'll need to speak to him eventually. Do you happen to know where his office is? I've been having trouble getting him on the phone," you say.

You're watching closely for his reply, and you see his eyes flicker to something in the distance.

Following his gaze, you see it. The massive house on the hill, dark and towering over the valley. Through the mist, it looks like an abandoned Victorian mansion.

"The Addams House," Yoongi says from behind you.

"Addams? Is that who lives there?" you ask with your eyes still fixed on the house, like a beacon that you can't look away from.

"Used to, they're long gone now," Yoongi replies. "The new owner rents it out now,"

"And who would that be?" you press.

Yoongi just shrugs.

"The only people who know for sure are the tenants themselves. Apparently, he's a bit of a recluse."

Hmm, interesting.

"And...that's where the coroner's office is?" you ask, a little incredulous.

He nods a little hesitantly.

"Mm hmm, it's in the basement."

"Ah, of course it is," you can't help but reply, and it makes Yoongi smile a bit.

There's a pause as the two of you poke around.

"So, what exactly are you looking for?" Yoongi asks.

That makes you stop and think for a moment, because you're not entirely sure what it is you're looking for here. At Bradley's place, it was the mushrooms. Laplan's place of death, any indication of unusual wildlife or animal activity. Here at the lake, you don't even have a cause of death.

"I'm not entirely sure," you admit, again not finding it in you to lie to him. "I'll have a much better idea when I get the coroner's report."

Something you said seems to remind him, prompting him to check his watch.

"I have to go now," he says, quickly gathering his things.

"Alright, I'll give you a ride back," you offer. Not that you would ever admit it, but you're not quite ready to part from him yet.

"No, no, that's alright," he blurts out, already making his way towards the outline of trees. "It's a short walk," he insists.

"From here?" you question, but by the time you turn around, all you can see is his dark hair and slight frame darting expertly between the trees.

Your shoulders deflate as you let the rest of your sentence die with a puff of breath. A strange man, no doubt. But then again, that's how you like them.

Later that day, you venture to the coffee shop to do some more research, but the establishment is closed. The man mentioned something about only being closed on Wednesday afternoons.

The bookstore on the other side of the alley is closed too, none of the warm light from last time leaking from the front window.

You use your entire living room floor as your cork board and red thread, scattering open books and papers like a difficult-to-navigate parchment sea.

And you sail that sea until three a.m.

Five missing. The first is Alissa Ward, aged thirty-two, last seen at a grocery store at 5:32 p.m. She returned home at 5:47, according to her home security system, and then randomly left through the back door at 2:42 a.m. She lived alone, and it took a while for authorities to report her missing.

Then, Brynn Synder, aged twenty-nine, last seen at her boyfriend's place the night before her disappearance. Apparently, she had a habit of running through the woods in the early morning, and she was reported missing when she failed to show up at brunch with friends the next morning.

The police searched the woods. They found nothing.

You fall asleep on the couch as you're nearing the end of her file, dreaming of feet pounding on dirt.

september 23, 2004.

The coroner proves to be even more elusive than you thought. He appears to be averse to his faxing machine, and downright allergic to his telephone.

By midmorning, you're trudging up through the damp earth to the house on the hill. The closer you get, the more massive it appears. Ancient brickwork, towers and iron spires, neatly clipped hedges flush to the sides of house, and crowned by spindly trees overhead.

There's a tall iron gate encompassing the entire property, spiraling with twisting designs. You try it, but it appears to be sealed even though you don't see a lock of any kind.

You still rattle it a few times for good measure, causing the metal to creak and screech as if it were alive, and very displeased at the rough treatment.

A moment later, a figure emerges from the fog. A man, it looks like, wearing a large coat. As he approaches, you notice the floppy black hair hanging in front of his face.

"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you," you call out when he's close enough to hear you. Really, you're not sorry, since you've been trying to get a hold of the coroner for several days now, with not so much as a return message.

The man is young, with a strong jaw and handsome features. But his skin, it's somehow completely colorless. You can't quite explain it, but it looks like ice, translucent yet cloudy at the same time. And what's weirder is the way your eyes can't quite stay focused on it. It makes your head throb if you stare at the same place for too long.

"I need to speak to the coroner," you say, putting authority in your voice. If you want to get anywhere with this case, you'll need the causes of death.

"He...He isn't here right now," the man says, sounding a little nervous. Now that you're closer, you can see his bunny-like front teeth biting at his strangely colorless lips.

"When will he be back?" you reply.

The man's head is downturned, eyes flickering over the ground.

"I'm not sure. He's spread quite thin, you see," he says.

You raise an eyebrow, unsatisfied.

"W-Well there aren't many forensic pathologists in this area, so he has to service the next three towns. And he always takes Wednesdays off for personal reasons, so he hasn't been in yet and-"

"Alright, kid," you interrupt his rambling, since he only appears to be getting more nervous by the second.

"Just have him call me as soon as possible, okay?" You hand him a card with your information scratched onto it, and he reaches through the gate's bars to take it between his extremely cold fingers.

"Yes ma'am," he says obediently, scurrying back up the hill and disappearing behind a hedge wall.

Strange young man, you think. But, as you're starting to realize, that is the norm in this town.

"She saw through my glamour," Jungkook announces to the room. And everyone freezes, stealing little glances at each other.

"I told you, she's perceptive," Yoongi says from his place on the chaise lounge.

"Curious too, she came into the bookshop looking for something on strange fungi," Namjoon supplies.

"And spent the entire night in the cafe reading," Jin adds.

"She won't stop calling my office. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell her," Taehyung admits.

"She's just doing her job," Jimin counters.

"In any case," a stern voice interrupts, the only voice that hasn’t spoken so far.

“Keep an eye on her.”

a/n: thank you muchly for reading!! if you tell me your thoughts i might explode with joy

NEXT PART: 05/15/24 @8:00 a.m. PST

#bts ot7 #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #ot7 x reader #bts mystery #bts series #bts angst #bts fanfiction

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arimiaromage · 21 days

Text

thoughts about dgm chapter 251

gonna throw my thoughts about these new revelations here.

bookman jr or past!allen?

she got us good! I was in shock when I first read it (all my headcanons about pasta, out the window! thrown! chunked!) but now I'm more fine with it.

I believe what happened was that hoshino drew the bookman jr in those flashbacks with nea on purpose - she wanted us to think that was allen and bookman jr. the flashbacks aren't past!allen with longer hair, this is definitely the bookman jr, as we can tell now.

it also makes more sense now why "allen" was talking about high concepts like the spiral being the force for life - it really was a bookman!

I fully think she did this switcharoo on purpose. if we look at her most recent livestream (translated by ponkotsubluuues), someone comments that they were shocked past!allen and bookman jr weren't the same person. her response is basically "yes, I know". she's not surprised people would think that, this was probably deliberately on purpose.

bookman jr & past!allen

okay, now on to some thoughts on who they actually are. I won't stick long here as we'll probably find out in just a few months and we don't have much to go on right now.

personally, I don't really care to ever meet allen's blood relatives. it's never interested me who he's "actually" related to and I always felt it would add even more complicated feelings for him and even more complexity to an already messy as hell family & relationship tree.

that being said, I wouldn't be surprised if bookman jr and allen are some kind of family unit, be it blood related or not. when they begin talking about the two of them as separate people, lucia refers to them as "two young men". so they're probably not father and son, but I could see them as brothers or some sort of brotherhood if they're not blood related.

maybe past!allen is a traveling clown who toured the world with bookman jr LOL.....?

either way, bookman jr was so compelled to protect allen & nea that he gave his life for them. I'm so, so eager to see their bond.

cross marian

who the hell is cross marian in all of this?

we know the cross has been around since almost adam's time, having been with mana and nea since they were children-

so we know that regardless of who is he, he's known about and visited the campbell manor for decades.

in this chapter, they even bring him up by name.

not only does allen ask about him, but lucia talks a bit about him as well.

and note that they're not saying something like "my master left a message for me" and lucia just goes along with it- allen says "my master cross" and lucia continues by saying his full name. she knows exactly who he's talking about.

(allen specifically says "cross shishou" = "master cross" but lucia called him "cross marian")

to me, this is one of the main reasons I don't believe cross is bookman jr. I believe he's somehow tied to the bookman, but I don't think he's the missing jr. if he was, why does lucia refer to him as cross here but not later? she clearly knows who allen is referring to, so wouldn't the bookman have searched for cross and found him with relative ease, given he was at the order for quite a while with bookman & lavi up until apocryphos attacked him?

lucia and the master only refer to bookman jr as "junior", not cross marian. if you're desperately looking for cross marian and are fully aware allen knows who that is, then why not call him that? what do you have to lose at this point?

and furthermore, if cross was this bookman jr, how did he forget who HE made the host? how did he lose allen? redarm!allen looks a lot more like this new past!allen and they both have redish brown hair - if you were traveling with this guy, you should be able to recognize him even if he's de-aged like 8 years, ESPECIALLY once mana takes him in and his hair becomes styled the exact same way.

I know we always have the deus ex machina of apocryphos' memory changing but I really don't want that to be the case for every character, the more you do it the more it becomes a contrivance.

cross definitely has SOME connection to the bookman, I don't feel like his mask and knowledge of bookman things is entirely a red herring. lucia makes it sound like cross reached out to them regarding the campbell manor, but I'll get to that in a bit.

the other leading theory is that cross is cyrus campbell, katerina's brother and head of the family. I feel like this holds a bit more water than him being a bookman, as it'd explain why he was the campbell manor when mana and nea were so young (and presumably before nea became a noah) and why he has worked so tirelessly for both of them.

remember, his innocence maria greatly resembles katerina. it's possible this is katerina's corpse, being infested by innocence. maybe this is from innocence cross was carrying finding its way to her corpse or maybe it was a failed attempt to save her, we don't really know yet.

(I'm not fully convinced about the cyrus theory either though, as why does nea refer to cross as cross instead of cyrus or uncle? how would the order not know about his family and how obviously tied to the noah he is? how could he not recognize allen, his nephew's most trusted friend?)

there have been some theories that maybe the campbells are a bookman family, which may be the case and would help explain why cross has a connection to both, but the way lucia words this part makes me think otherwise.

she makes it sound like the campbell manor wasn't always under their jurisdiction, that it came to be that way but wasn't always. but that might be pulling at straws. I just don't think she'd word it this way if cross = bookman jr.

I'm not fully convinced about either theory about cross as I see holes in both of them. just have to wait and see~

personally I'd still like it if cross was just a childhood friend who got way too attached but we'll see 😂 or maybe he was just pining for katerina from afar....

crown clown

I feel pretty confident now that this is past!allen being hugged by bookman jr, possibly for the last time / as bookman jr's way to protect him.

but I also can't help but feel.... it reminds me of crowned clown, you know? the way it wraps around allen, covering him in an attempt to protect him. even the cut off tips. it really reminds me of that.

the bookman are no stranger to innocence. we also don't know when allen acquired his innocence- did past!allen have it? or...... did bookman jr give it to him as he was dying? did he think it would protect him and nea (and why would he give a noah innocence)?

I would not be surprised if there was some connection between bookman jr and allen's innocence.

allen

I absolutely loved this part.

the pure conviction in his face. no regrets. he finally has a chance to clear up his mind, to cast away the fear he's dealt with for so long about who he actually is. so, so good.

but........ WHO IS ALLEN WALKER????? the burning question. who knows at this point.

I'm very excited to see the next parts, even if it apparently isn't the 35 year flashback (her own words, from the aforementioned livestream) - I assume it'll be a flashback to past!allen meeting nea possibly, or them finding out nea isn't a typical noah, or some major event that happened before shit went down.

yeah that's about it, see yall next time ✌️

#dgm #dgrayman #d gray man #dgm spoilers #dgm theories

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pretty-red-garnet · 8 months

Text

Angel

Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader • France • Light Angst/Fluff

!Spoilers! For The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon episode one! Don’t read this if you haven’t watched yet! Also, thank you so much to the anon who requested this. I had a lot of fun writing it.

PS: Ignore the canon divergence lol.

Heavy limbs is all Daryl feels as he begins to become conscious again. He's huddled on an overturned boat, his frozen fingers gripping your waist to keep you afloat with him. It seems even unconscious, he's always thinking of you and your safety before anything.

The coast is close, and he fights against his droopy eyes to look towards you. Your eyes are still closed, and he panics and swats at you to wake you. When you do, your groggy too, glazed over eyes looking towards his.

"We gotta get to the coast," Daryl tells you, his voice rough with thirst. You nod, still disoriented, but he appreciates that you don't fight him when he lugs you off the boat and drags you towards shore.

You and Daryl crawl on the sand, fingers ripping into the sand in an effort to ground yourselves. Sand sticks to the icy water soaking the two of you. Daryl spots a little sand bucket full of water ahead, and rushes to it. After a single eager gulp, he hurriedly hands it off to you. He watches the water drip down your chin, giving himself just a moment to relish in the fact that you're ok and breathing.

You and him had gotten in quite a bit of trouble since venturing off in an effort to find his brother. It ended in getting taken aboard a huge boat and— thankfully— escaping on a much smaller paddle boat. And now your landed on an unfamiliar shore.

"Where do you think we are?" You ask, breaths still heavy and fast. Daryl shrugs, leaning back onto his hand and grabbing the bucket when you offer it.

After a quick moments rest, you and your partner are back on your feet. You both wander the area, looking around for any sign of where you could be. The town you end up in is small. Buildings surrounded by the sea. It looked like it would've been a spot out of a travel pamphlet from before.

"Y/N," Daryl suddenly says, looking towards a sign. You step next to him, eyeing the sign to try and read the words through the age and decay.

"Is that..." you start, examining the unfamiliar language. "French?"

You and Daryl both look towards each other, both having an expression that could only be described as exhaustion. It seemed to Daryl that you and him just couldn't catch a damn break. How the hell would he get you home?

"Looks like we're not in Kansas anymore," you say, deadpan. Daryl's frown deepens and gives you a halfhearted thwack on the shoulder for you ill-timed joke. "Tough crowd."

You and Daryl spend that night in a little fishing boat. It's long abandoned, dirt and dust covering every surface, but it gives some cover from the biting wind. After eating a fish Daryl caught, you both huddle together under layers of blankets on a little cot. You're wrapped around him and despite the exhaustion that drapes over you, you still can't sleep.

"Judith would like that," you mumble. Daryl follows your eyes and sees you gazing at the penguin plush. "She's never seen a penguin. Well, just in books."

Your voice is quiet, thoughtful. Daryl knows what your thinking about, he's good at that now. After so many years with a person, you can almost read their mind. And Daryl knows that you're missing Jude and RJ, especially after listening to that tape. That you're thinking about the childhood they're missing out on, about trips to the zoo and seeing penguins, begging their parents to buy them an overpriced souvenir. The childhood they should have.

The childhood you and Daryl are missing out watching.

"We'll have to bring it back for them," he says. You don't say anything back. "I'm gonna get you home, alright?"

You tilt your head to look in his eyes. Daryl hates that he sees fear and worry in yours. He tries to ebb it away with gentle caresses.

"I'm gonna get you home," he repeats, firmer and while looking you in the eye. You relent, nodding and smiling softly at him, and he leans to brush your lips against his in a silent promise.

It seems the bad luck that hangs over you and Daryl like a dark storm cloud isn't planning on dissipating anytime soon. You and Daryl venture deeper into the city and stumble upon a big abandoned building.

"Maybe I should've taken French in high school," you murmur, eyes squinting at the unrecognizable words written on a sign outside of the building. Daryl just shrugs, and carefully begins to enter the building.

It ends up being filled with walkers. Guttural groans and decomposed flesh surrounds you and Daryl. You and Daryl are taking care of your own groups, dividing and— hopefully— conquering.

"Daryl!" You screech out, the sound of a body dropping following. "These are not normal walkers!"

Daryl looks at the dead walkers and sees what you mean. Something leaking from them is burning the ground. Acid.

It's not a second later Daryl is grabbed roughly, acidic fingers clamping down on his forearm. He lets out a yelp in pain, one that makes you kill your batch of walkers in half the time with the help of the extra adrenaline. Daryl sees you in the corner of his eye rushing towards him after he's able to pry the walker's hand off his arm.

"Oh my God," you say, breathlessly staring at the burned hand print on his arm. Your fingers shake violently as they move to touch him, before they move away again. You look up at Daryl, his face pinched in pain. Tears collect at the corners of your eyes.

Daryl's heart clenches in his chest at the sight of you, nervous and scared. Teary eyes and trembling like a leave. He reaches up to lightly dab at a few stray tears that leaked from your eyes, shaking his head.

"I'm fine," he says, slowly and quietly. "Just a burn, I'm not infected or nothin'." His fingers now stroke your hair, trying to get that terrified look out of your eyes. "It's somethin' on the walkers, it's not a scratch or bite. 'M fine."

You nod, and throw your arms around his waist. He hugs back without a thought, hiding a wince when your coat brushes against his wound. He doesn't mind, he'll take the pain if it means your arms are around him, holding him so tight he's afraid he'll lose feeling in his legs any second. Your face is buried in his chest, and he leaves little kisses on the crown of your head.

When you finally pry yourself away, you're quick to pull a bandage out of your bag. Forcing Daryl to sit, you tentatively wrap the bandage around his arm. You place a sweet kiss on the outskirts of his bandage when you're done, smiling at Daryl when he huffs out an amused snort.

You were always like that. Kind, and attentive. Always putting him and your family ahead of yourself. It was something that Daryl fell in love with first all those years ago. Although it tends to worry and annoy him on occasion.

"I'm gonna be fine, alright?" Daryl reassures when he sees the worry isn't completely washed away from your face. You nod, lacing your fingers with his and leading him out of the building.

Just when it seems the day couldn't get worse, it does. You and Daryl find a girl with her father, and thankfully she knows enough english for a trade. A little med kit for some apples and rabbit.

What at first seems like the first score of the day ends in Daryl and his partner sprawled out on the damp ground. Both have matching knots on the side of their heads and Daryl a gunshot wound, yet both look and reach out towards each other. Daryl's eyes slip close before he can help it.

Daryl wakes to a start. His limbs and eyes are heavy, and he hears a woman talking— chanting?— in French. His eyes are blurry, but he's pretty sure he's looking at nuns surrounding him, one of them— the one that's speaking— has a heated fire poker, so hot the tip is a bright orange.

He yelps and shouts, trying to break free from the women's grip, but between being outnumbered, in pain, and exhausted, he doesn't move much. Daryl's eyes fly around the room in a panic, trying to catch sight of you, but there's no such thing. Once the molten poker hits his skin, the pain blinds him and he's out again.

Daryl wakes again much later. Maybe hours, maybe days later, he's not sure. He spots a nun pouring water from a basin in a large tub. Despite his body not functioning up to speed, he sits up anyway. At that moment, she turns towards him.

"You feeling better?" She asks, a foreign accent marking her words.

"Where is she?" He grumbles out, voice like sandpaper. "Y/N, where is she?"

"She's in another room, eating. She came to see you, you were still sleeping," she explains. "I'm Isabelle."

Isabelle explains the situation to Daryl. How the cauterization to prevent the spread of infection from that acidic walker, where he was, and how you were, all while removing the bandage on his arm. She makes some other conversation, but Daryl is mostly quiet, too busy with thoughts of you. However, Daryl isn't panicked, just concerned.

He doesn't feel the woman or any nuns at the abby had ill intent. They could've just left you both to die, but they didn't. Instead taking total strangers back to their home. Daryl does just want to see you. To make absolute sure you're safe and alright.

After Isabelle leaves, he takes her up on her offer of a bath. He can see the steam from here, and after the freezing cold ocean water from the other day, he needs it. He also doesn't need you worrying about his wound, so keeping it clean was a good first step.

He makes it quick and hasty, already out with a towel when Isabelle enters with clean clothes. Daryl feels a little exposed, only dressed with a towel, but Isabelle is quick to exit once she gives him the clean clothes.

Daryl hurries out the door once he's dressed. He doesn't really know where he's going, but he follows the noise of chatter. He peeks his head in the room he hears the most noise and spots you, talking with a couple of the nuns and eating soup.

"Hey, Angel," you say, dropping your spoon in your soup when he makes his presence known. You stand, placing your hand on his cheek and pressing a sweet kiss to the side of his mouth.

"You alright?" Daryl asks, tentatively touching the bruise on your temple. You nod, smiling when you kiss his wrist.

"Isabelle said your arm looks good." You sit down and Daryl follows suit. One of the women places a bowl in front of him, and he's quick to dig in and slurp up his soup.

"Told you, 'm fine."

"I know, but if I don't worry about you, who will?"

Isabelle gives you and Daryl a tour of the convent. She introduces Laurent to you both and explained the miracle of his birth, how he's special. Daryl scoffed, but he could tell you were a little intrigued with Isabelle's plan of getting him to a better place. Somewhere safer and where he could be happier.

Daryl would've flat out refused if it weren't for you. You convinced him to help out the women on their journey. Isabelle promised she'd help get you and Daryl back home, or at least access to a radio. It didn't seem very promising, but one look at you and he folded.

You always called him your angel, but in truth, you're the real angel.

After all the introductions and outlining the plan of getting Laurent to wherever he needs to be, it's dinner time. Laurent was a strange kid. He liked to talk and sometimes he'd get all philosophical and ask Daryl deep questions. His odd questions and badgering took up most of the day. You mostly just giggled at Daryl and his usually half-assed answers.

At dinner, the other nuns regard Daryl nervously. You had quietly joked to him that's it's his 'intimidating energy,' as you called it.

"But don't worry, I find it really hot," you had said in a whisper while the nuns set the table. Daryl blushed and moved to hide his face from you, which just made you giggle.

The only ones that speak English are Isabelle, Laurent, and another nun named Sylvie. The three translated any conversation between you, Daryl, and the other women. It was mostly them asking questions to learn about you and Daryl.

"She wants to know how long you two have been married," Isabelle asks, translating a question from the oldest nun, Mother Superior.

"Oh," you had said, stumbling a little. Daryl could feel heat flush his cheeks and ears. "We're not married."

Sylvie and a few of the other women had made a slightly surprised face, and Mother Superior looked just aghast when Isabelle translated.

"Don't you two live together?" Laurent asks, ever on top of things. "And haven't you been together for years?"

"Yeah..." you say with a shrug. "Guess we just never thought to."

"There even a point?" Daryl asks. "No courts, no paper to sign."

It seemed nobody had to translate for the oldest nun this time. Maybe it was his tone or nonchalant shrug while he said it, but it seemed she got the point. She made a noise of astonishment, shook her head while muttering a player and making the motion of a cross. Daryl honestly thought it was a little comical, never did he think he'd be discussing marriage with a bunch of nuns, in an abby, in France no less.

"It's about taking a vow in front of God," Sylvie says. "A show that you love each other and you'll be together forever."

Daryl could feel the awkward tension radiating from you in waves. You moved your food around your plate, slightly unwilling to make eye contact with the nuns. Daryl just shrugged. He knew he loved you, he knew he would be with you forever, he knew you felt the same, he didn't need a big show to prove that.

Daryl never gave marriage a huge thought. Before he met you, he was sure he'd never even fall in love. After you, he was so deeply head over heels for you, he never thought he needed a big wedding to prove how much he loved you. He showed it everyday, at least he tried his best to. Maybe he wasn't the most romantic or emotionally inclined, but he tried to make you feel loved and happy.

Besides, you'd never hinted at marriage. If you did, maybe it'd be a different story. You'd never said you wanted a wedding, did you want one? Did you want to be married, and thought he wouldn't want it? Daryl's not sure.

Now that he's thinking, really thinking during the semi-awkward silence that replaced the once lively conversation, maybe you did want marriage. Daryl remembers all those years ago when Maggie and Glenn married. They didn't have a huge wedding or anything, just a ring and a small celebration with some scavenged champagne. He remembers how happy you looked, how fondly you gazed at the happy couple.

He remembers how he made a comment similar to the one he just made, about no point of being married. You had nudged his shoulder and told him to be quiet, that it was romantic. That it didn't matter there were no marriage licenses or wedding gowns or honeymoons, they were happy and in love. How they just wanted to be husband and wife, just because they were committed to one another.

Daryl looks at you seated next to him, and it's like something changes. Maybe calling you his wife wouldn't be so bad.

Isabelle leads you and Daryl to separate rooms. After the big news of you and Daryl being unwed, Mother Superior didn't want you both staying in the same room. It was bizarre to Daryl, but you wanted to respect their wishes. So he conceded, and allowed Isabelle to take you away from him.

You blowed him a dramatic kiss as you walked away, like you were going off to war or something. He played along anyway like he always did with you, grabbing the kiss and bringing it to his chest just to see you laugh.

Now, laying in bed without your steady presence beside him was unwelcome. He felt strange, like he was missing a vital part of him. He couldn't even remember the last time he's slept without you. Even those years he was out in the woods looking for Rick, you were there, always right beside him.

He tossed and turned, fiddling with a little scrap of stained white fabric he had clutched in his hand. It was from his angle wing on his vest. A small piece had peeled off after the long trip in the ocean, and he had shoved it in his pocket without thinking.

Eventually, Daryl stood. Maybe he'd get in trouble with the nuns in the morning, but he doesn't care, he needs you. He carefully pushes open his door before making his way towards your room. He enters your room without knocking, letting out a relived sigh when he sees you laying in bed.

"You didn't even knock," you say, sitting up in bed. "What if you had just barged into one of the nun's rooms? Don't think they would've liked it much."

"I must have God on my side." You snort and shake your head. He walks over to you and sits on your bed, pushing you back into the pillows.

"What're you doing here anyway? Got lost?" You tease, a smirk on your face that Daryl kisses away.

"Missed you," he murmurs against your lips, before pulling away just barley to trail feverish kisses from your jaw to your neck. You groan.

"They won't like this much you know," you say, heated breaths fanning out across the top of Daryl's head. "We should respect their wishes. We're in their home."

"Whatever, we're helpin' them with their mission, ain't we?" You push Daryl away lightly, and so he pulls away. You're giving him a concerned look that makes Daryl worry.

"Yes, but they're also helping us. They're helping to get us home, and I don't wanna risk anything." Daryl sighs, the breath causing your messy hair to flutter slightly. He smooths it down tenderly.

"I'm gonna get you home. Don't gotta worry." You grasp his hand playing with your hair and kiss his fingertips. He curls his fingers around your hand and lifts it to his lips, placing careful kisses to your knuckles.

"I do hate sleeping without you," you admit, voice quiet. He nods, placing your hand gently to rest on your stomach, still holding it.

"Guess I just have to marry you then." Daryl had intended it as a joke, but realized he was serious about halfway through. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he gazes at you, hair fanning out on the pillow with an adorably confused look on your face.

He's not sure what took him so long to realize. But he's never been so sure of anything in his life. He wants you to be his wife. You're already his everything, his forever, he wants it to be official. He wants to hear you call him your husband, he wants you to be his and him yours in every sense there is.

"Are you joking?" You ask, a furrow to your brow and a tilt to your head. He shakes his head, his insecurities begin to evade his mind.

"I love you," he starts, unable to meet your questioning gaze. "I never thought about marriage, never thought anyone could love me like that." You push his hair from his face and caress his cheek, regarding him with a look so full of love he knows he's made the right choice. "But I wanna do it with you, if you want."

"Why now?" You sit up, pressing your palms on either side of his face. "Is it because of what the nuns said?"

"Kinda." He shrugs, and you smile softly.

"Daryl, I don't need us to be married to know you love me. You show me that every day. You don't need to prove anything." He shakes his head, holding your hands in place by grasping your wrists loosely.

"I want to be married to you. I never really thought about it before this s'all, but I do," Daryl confirms, holding your gaze steadily now. "I wanna be with you forever. You're everything to me."

Tears collect in your eyes and Daryl is terrified he messed up, that maybe you didn't want this. Maybe this would feel too possessive to you, like you'd be tied down, like he'd be owning you. Before his thoughts can spiral too out of control, you kiss him. You kiss him so hard and so passionately, Daryl almost falls backwards.

"I'd love to marry you." Daryl grips at your hips and you clutch at his shoulders. He rests his forehead against yours.

"I don't have a damn ring," Daryl says. He pulls out the little scrap of fabric from his vest, taking hold of you hand. He ties the little scrap around your finger, rubbing over your ring finger when he's done. "That'll have to do for now."

"It's a piece of your vest?" Daryl nods, and you grin so brightly, you almost light up the entire room. "Now I always have a little part of my Angel with me."

Daryl smiles, his chest feeling warmer than ever before. He shoves you down into the bed and follows quickly, pulling you up to lay on his chest. You laugh and admire the makeshift ring adorning your left hand.

"You're my Angel."

Daryl's eyes crack open to the sound of a door creaking and is immediately met with bright sunlight. A deep sigh is what causes him to open his eyes fully. Isabelle is standing by the door, fresh clothes in hand with a disappointed look on her face.

"Mother Superior won't be happy," she says. Daryl looks to your form curled up next to him, and he couldn't care less. You roll over to face Isabelle and grin so brightly, Daryl's heart might just burst.

"But we're married," you say, your voice still sleepy, while throwing out your hand from under the covers to show off the 'ring.' You look so proud Daryl can't help but smile. "Got married last night."

"What?" Daryl isn't sure if she looks more confused or shocked. "You got married? Last night?"

"Yeah," Daryl replies nonchalantly, throwing his legs off the bed to stand.

"You need someone to marry you, you can't just decide your married." Isabelle looks amused now as she places the clothing on the dresser.

"What for?" You ask, sitting up. "Like Daryl said, there's no marriage licensing or anything."

"Yes, but you could still be married in the eyes of God," Isabelle says, a thoughtful look on her face.

"We ain't catholic," Daryl says, reaching to grab the clothes Isabelle placed on the dresser. She pushes his hand away.

"Humor us," she says, getting met with confused looks from both you and Daryl. "Let us put something together. I'm sure no one will mind a little wedding."

You and Daryl tried to refuse, but it seems nuns are very convincing. Or maybe it's just because they're all women. Soon you and Daryl are getting set up in makeshift wedding attire. Daryl is getting prepped up in the clothing closest to a tux while nuns are creating a dress for you. Sewing and pinning up a white garnet they found to resemble something of a wedding gown.

Daryl was less than ecstatic, but he saw how happy you looked when you rushed by him to get fitted into the gown and he was suddenly ok with it all. The next time he saw you, it was while he was at the alter.

The women had made a trail of different fabrics to make a sort of carpet trail to the alter. Your white dress stands out against the multitude of colors of the carpet. Daryl's eyes flit from your dress to your sparkling eyes to your contagious grin before settling on the fabric tied in a knot around your finger.

He can't take his eyes off you.

Even when you finally make it across from him and Mother Superior begins to read from the Bible can he focus on anything but you. The foreign words are the last thing on his mind.

"I love you," you mouth to him, smiling with tears glistening your eyes. Daryl feels tears begin to prick at his own.

"Love you, too," he mouths back. He's nudged slightly by the young boy, and that's what brings him back. "Huh?"

"Say 'I do,'" Laurent mumbles, causing the nuns to laugh.

"Oh, yeah, I do," Daryl says, feeling a blush creep up his neck. You smile at him, causing him to smile back and forgetting the slight embarrassment. After a few more words read from the holy book, the officiate turns to you.

"I do," you say with a watery laugh. A tear finally falls and Daryl is swift with wiping it away. After a few more words, the book is closed, and she motions for you to kiss.

Daryl crashes his lips to yours without a seconds hesitation. You hum into his lips and Daryl can feel your tears drip down. He pulls away, to realize it was his own tears he felt. You grin happily, brushing away his tears with your thumbs.

"We're married," you say, quietly. Daryl feels his heart miss a beat and he can't help press another firm kiss to your lips.

It's decided the journey to deliver Laurent will begin tomorrow. One day of resting up and celebrating the newlyweds. You're the happiest Daryl has seen since you left to look for Rick. He keeps finding himself grinning to himself seeing you so happy, chatting with Isabelle and Sylvie and eating delicious food. Even indulging in a little homemade wine tucked away for special occasions.

"Hey, you," you whisper, winding your arms around Daryl's neck. You teeter on your feet, just a bit tipsy on the wine. Your grin is so happy and free, so infectious, Daryl grins back. "Having fun?" He shrugs.

"I like watching you have fun." He twirls a little piece of your hair. You frown, Daryl rubs it away with his thumb which results in a kiss on his finger tips. "I'd have more fun if we were alone," he murmurs in your ear, kissing the shell. You smack him lightly on the shoulder and giggle.

"This is a house of God, Daryl." He shrugs at your teasing. You rock back and forth between your left and right foot, fingers twisting around the curls at the back of his neck. Suddenly, you look thoughtful as you gaze at him.

"What?" He questions.

"I just wish Carol and Maggie could be here, our family." You shrug, looking down. "I miss them, Jude and RJ, too. All of them." He kisses your forehead and gently lifts up your chin to meet his eyes.

"We'll have to have a party when we get back." Daryl kisses your forehead again, lips moving down to your temple.

"Yeah, ok," you say, nodding and smiling again, happy at the thought of celebrating with your family. "A nice party after our honeymoon."

"Honeymoon?" Daryl asks with a smirk. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Uh, we're in France," you say, a look on your face screaming 'obviously.' "We're going to Paris on our way to deliver Laurent, right?" Daryl nods and snorts.

"You think the Eiffel Tower's still standin'?" You drop your hand from the back of his neck to poke his side, a shocked expression on your face.

"Don't burst my bubble! Of course it's still standing!" You exclaim. Daryl concedes and nods, lifting his hands palms out to put them in a surrendering stance. "I've always wanted to go to Paris. I never imagined I'd have a destination wedding."

Daryl never imagined he'd have a wedding in general. Never thought he'd find someone so loving and amazing as you. As Daryl gazes lovingly into your eyes, hands spread out on your back, he knows he's made the right choice.

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